Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own
by Godiva9
Summary: It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion for a project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: **T

**Warnings: **Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Chapter One

Harry sat nervously in the waiting room of Ashford Hospital having finally finished filling out the standard medical forms. He couldn't seem to keep his leg from bouncing, and his emerald eyes darted restlessly around the room constantly surveying the doors and people.

Harry knew he was taking a huge risk leaving number four and the supposed protection it provided, and he knew that his Uncle Vernon would be livid at an afternoons worth of missed chores, but he would risk his Uncle's wrath to find the truth. Unfortunately for Harry, the man that may hold the answers was miles away from Privet Drive, and working at Ashford Hospital. Harry sighed heavily thinking back to the events that had thrown his life was in chaos.

LLFHOLLFOHLLFHO

It all started with a combined Potions and History of Magic summer assignment. During the last week of school, the students brewed a Lineage Ligno potion. Once activated with three drops of blood, something Harry was never short of during summer break, the potion was to be poured onto a specially pretreated parchment they received in History of Magic.

The parchment would then show their family tree, listing names and dates associated with each member. There assignment was then to research their history looking for more in-depth information on several people in their family and present the assignment in history at the beginning of their fifth year term.

Despite the death of Cedric and the debacle that was his fourth year, Harry was for once looking forward to a summer project. He figured it might help him keep his mine off the third task, and that it would be easy; he already knew the basics about his family, and while he did not have access to some of the wizarding genealogy materials his classmates did, Harry did have access to his parent's best friends, one of whom happened to be his Godfather. Harry figured he would write to both Sirius and Remus for more information on his parents' extended family, and maybe get a few marauders stories while he was at it.

As his uncle always locked his school things in the cupboard under the stairs at the beginning of every summer, Harry had to take precautions if he wanted to get at least this one assignment done, so after a bit of thought, Harry smuggled the parchment in under the newspapers in Hedwig's cage, and after placing an unbreakable charm on the potion vial, placed it in the pocket of his most baggy jeans with the hope that none of the Dursleys would notice. He had breathed a sigh of relief when he made it up the stairs with both the parchment and vial intact; now however Harry almost wished the items had been confiscated.

LLFHOLLFOHLLFHO

Three days into summer break Harry was hit in the face by a heavy handed blow from Vernon because he had slightly over cooked the stake at dinner. While Harry wasn't thrilled with the blow to his nose, it had provided the blood he needed to activate the potion, and with a small amount of anticipation Harry added the three drops, and shook the bottle watching with fascination as it changed from a near translucent blue to a darker navy color.

Grabbing the empty rubbish bin, Harry carefully placed the parchment in the bottom, and hoping that the potion would still work on parchment that wasn't completely flat, he began drizzling the potion over the parchment. He watched in amazement as the parchment absorbed the olive oil constancy liquid and started forming the letters, lines, and numbers that made up his ancestry.

Snatching up the parchment Harry greedily looked it over, his eyes, lingering on a few names before finely finding the names Lilly and James Potter. It was then that all of Harry's enthusiasm for the project turned to confusion and dread. Under the name Lilly Potter was a maternal line that connected to the name Harrison Holmes; the name had Harry's birth date, but the paternal line did not lead to James Potter, it led to a man named Sherlock Holmes.

For several days Harry had alternated between feeling numb, angry and confused and his nightly nightmares about Cedric were not helping. He finally came to a decision about his paternity after another violent altercation with Vernon, which left his shoulder bruised aching and swollen. He wanted out of the Dursleys house and finding his father would be one way to do that. So Harry took the opportunity to scour the internet for any mention of Sherlock Holmes one afternoon when the Dursleys went to the cinema. What he found shocked him, Sherlock was apparently a muggle who worked as a consulting detective, but, if one was to believe the tabloids which Harry took with a grain of salt based on his own experiences, the man had been involved in some form of scandal, before he committed suicide nearly three years ago.

This information could be wrong as the Lineage Ligno potion had no date of death, though there was a blur were it should have been; there was a possibility the man was alive. With just a bit more digging, Harry found that Sherlock Holmes was almost always found in the company of honorably and medically discharged Army doctor John Watson. After that it didn't take long for Harry to find the man's blog which told the exploits of the two men.

As he read more about Sherlock it was clear that they had the same eye for details, and the same knack for finding danger and that they even looked similar with dark messy hair, and thin aristocratic features. Most importantly however, he found that Dr. Watson believed that Sherlock was innocent of the fraud and crimes he supposedly committed. Harry finally tracked down Doctor Watson at his place of work, and quickly made an appointment using his shoulder as a reason to see him.

LLFHOLLFOHLLFHO

Harry was startled out of his reverie by a nurse calling his name.

"Harry Potter, we're ready for you." She said with a smile and a gesture to follow her.

Harry took a deep breath and braced himself to see the man who many claimed to be his father's best friend.

**A/N: **Well here is the first chapter, I hope it was okay! There was not much dialogue but this chapter was just setting the stage so to speak, and there will be more dialogue in future chapters. Also I have a **POLL** on my profile page that will help decide John's romantic interest (Sherlock or Greg) and whether or not Sherlock should return, please help me decide!

Thanks for reading,

Godiva9


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: **T

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Chapter 2

John sighed straitening his hunched form, raising a hand to massage at his aching neck. The paper work from all his extra shifts had piled up, and as there had been a thirty minute lull in patients, he had thought he would try to get caught up. He swore that never again was he going to let his paperwork get this far behind. Just as John was about to return to his slightly smaller but sill large pile of papers, there was a soft knock on his door.

"Yes, come in." John said with relief, trying not to sound too eager at the possible interruption. He would do anything to avoid more paper work.

"It's just me Doctor Watson," his nurse Mary said with a smile."Your last appointment is here, male teen with an injured shoulder, said rough housing with his cousin and got a little too rough. Strange thing though, he came alone; there was no adult with him, he's only fourteen." Mary added in slight concern.

"Hmm, that is a bit odd I'll look into it." John said trying to reassure her. Mary was a brilliant nurse, a lovely women and if he wasn't hung up on his dead flatmate…

"Oh and John, he's in room 221, all the others were full." Marry added with an apologetic grimace.

John sighed, trying to ignore the pain that came with any small connection to Sherlock Holmes and Bakers Street.

"Right, it's fine. I'll be right with him."

Though it had been nearly three years, it was clear to anyone who looked that he had never really gotten over his flatmate's death and after a small breakdown shortly after his friends fall, the nurses tried to avoid putting his patients in room 221.

Well there was nothing for it, he had to go in, he had a patient waiting so he took a deep breath and put on a pleasant smile, before walking down the short hall to room 221. Stopping outside the door John took another calming breath before firmly knocking twice.

"Um…come in." a soft tenor replied.

Pushing the door open John entered, quickly looking over the teen's medical file which was surprisingly thin and blank for a child nearly fifteen; and the file wasn't the only thing that was thin. John also noticed that according to his before appointment measurements, the teen was under weight for his age weighing barely six stones when he should weigh seven stones at the very least.

"Hello, Harry I'm Doctor Watson and I'll be treating you today." John said warmly, an easy smile gracing his features. A quick glance as the teen sitting on the table however, was enough to wipe the smile off his face and cause him to freeze in place.

"Sherlock."

HPWHJWHSH

A knock sounded on the door Harry and managed to swallow dryly before choking out a 'come in.'

He watched carefully as the graying blond doctor entered the room warmly introducing himself, and reading what Harry assumed was his medical paperwork; most of which he had filled out today. He noted that the man looked worn, with tight lines around his eyes and forehead, his clothes while nice looking seemed to hang off him a bit as if he had recently lost a lot of weight and the dark circles under his eyes spoke of a lack of sleep, something Harry could relate to. He wondered what it was that kept the man from sleep, he had been in a war so maybe it was memories or perhaps it was nightmares about his friend's death. Either way, Harry could plainly see the sorrow, guilt, and loneness etched all over the Doctors face.

As the doctor looked at him for the first time upon entering the room, his eyes went wide and he seemed to be unable to move. There was several seconds of silence and Harry was about to ask the doctor if he was alright, when he heard the man utter the word "Sherlock" in a choked whisper.

'Well I guess that answers whether or not I look like him to someone who doesn't know were related' Harry thought sarcastically.

HPWHJWHSH

John shook his head in an attempt to clear it and looked the teen over again. While it was true that the boy had dark messy locks, and a similar wiry build and cheek bones that reminded him of his friend, the teen's eyes were a vibrant green and the nose was all wrong for Sherlock; not to mention the kid was not yet fifteen.

'It's not him, he's not coming back.' John reminded himself. Out loud he apologized to his uncomfortable looking patient.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, you look a bit like an old friend." he said with a sheepish smile.

"It's all right, happens to everyone." the teen replied with a shrug which was followed quickly by a wince and a hiss of pain.

John's eyes narrowed and clinical yet concerned expression shown on his face.

"Right well let's see to this shoulder shall we?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes please." the teen said with an encouraging nod.

"Excellent; now when and how did this happen." John questioned, shoving back his ghosts and slipping back into doctor mode.

He noted that teen tensed slightly before relaxing answering, and odd response that grabbed his attention and sent up alarms.

"Well, it happened last week, Thursday I think. My cousin, uncle and I were just mucking about and it got a little rough."

"Alright, and can you describe the injury and the pain level for me." John asked as he continued to record the teen's answers in his file.

"Well it hurt really bad when it first happened kind of a burning pain, and now it hurts if I move it the wrong way; there is some swelling and bruising too." the teen listed off.

In his mind, John went through a list of possible injuries and quickly discarded thoughts of dislocation or brake, and focused on sprains and separated shoulders.

"Very good," John said genially as he finished recording the teen's answers file.

"Okay, now before we do the physical exam, I need to ask you about the paperwork you filled out in the waiting room." he was hoping to fill in some of the blanks in the teen's medical and personal history.

"Why? Did I fill it out wrong, I tried to do it right, but I've never filled out this kind of information before." the raven haired teen asked rapidly, a small fretfully pout crossing his features.

John felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards as he attempted to keep a smile off his face. The boy in front of him was, well there was no other word for it, cute. The teen's annoyance at the thought that he didn't fill out the paperwork right was amusing, and combined with the sulking and rapid speech was reminiscent of the late Sherlock; and somewhere in the back of his mind John registered the fact that this reminder wasn't painful.

"Nah you filled it out right, it's just that there are quite a few blanks and I want to make sure that you didn't accidently skip something."

"Oh, okay." the teen said perking back up.

"Good, now your family history is pretty blank, do you know if your parents have any medical conditions or if their taking any medications?" John asked with the hopes of figuring out why the teen came by himself.

John watched as the boy cleared his throat his answer quite and his eyes downcast.

"I don't think my Mum did, but I don't know for sure, she and my da- my adoptive dad died when I was a toddler. I just found out that I have a biological dad I don't know anything about.

That might explain things, John thought. "I'm sorry for your loss, it must be difficult."

When the teen nodded but dint elaborate John continued.

"I see you left your emergency contact blank, you said your shoulder happened when you were messing about with your Uncle and cousin, do you live with them?"

"I only stay with them during the summer, I go to a boarding school in Scotland during the year so I didn't want to um, bother them with this."

John tried to hide the frown that wanted to cross his face; this was all stating to sound a bit not good. What kind of teenager didn't want to 'bother' his relatives if he had an emergency?

"Okay then," john said placing the file on the counter behind him. "Well young man off with your shirt and we'll have a look at your shoulder and see what we can do to fix it."

The second the teen heard the request to remove his shirt, his entire body tensed, his breathing became rapid and John could see pure panic in the boy's emerald green eyes.

'Damn,' thought John, 'I was afraid of this.' the boy's answers and weight had raised his suspicions but this practically confirmed it the teen in front of him was probably abused.

HPWHJWHSH

Harry froze and began to panic, he blew it. He had the perfect opportunity to ask the man about Sherlock, and he didn't take it and now he was facing this.

Harry hadn't taken striping for a physical examination into account when he had thought this plan up. It had been years since he had went to a Muggle doctor, and he had only been allowed to go then because he needed his jabs for school. At Hogwarts Madam Pomfrey always used diagnostic spells.

If he took off his shirt now, the doctor would not only see his injured shoulder, but several hand shaped bruises on his arms, a healing slice on one arm from Pettigrew, and scars on his back from the one time that uncle Vernon had used the belt buckle on him after a bout of accidental magic.

"Harry, are you alright?" the doctor asked his voice soft.

Harry thought quickly, he had to at least try to keep his shirt on he didn't want anyone to know about the Dursleys, they never believed him anyway.

"I'm fine it's just that, well it really hurts to get my shirt on and off, can't we just leave it on?" he asked pulling out his best puppy dog eyes. It wasn't all a lie either; his shoulder hurt something fierce when he got dressed in the mornings.

Doctor Watson looked at him with a kind look and understanding smile that made Harry nervous. What exactly did the man understand?

"I'm sorry Harry but I can't do a proper examination with your shirt on. I can help you take it off if you like, and I promise I'll be gentle, but in order to treat your shoulder, the shirt has to come off."

Harry felt his panic building and to his mortification, he felt the telltale burning prickle of tears forming in his eyes. What was he going to do now?

HPWHJWHSH

John watched sadly as the teen fought the panic and tears that threatened to fall; he hated abuse cases, he hated seeing the fear, the panic, the pain and the guilt. Cases that involved kids were always the worst pulling at his heart, and leaving a lasting impression. Eventually he would have to get the police involved, but first he had to treat the teen's injuries.

"Harry," he said gently, "Harry look at me please." When the teen hesitantly met his gaze, he tried to convey a sense of calm, safety, and caring.

"Harry I know that something is wrong, and I understand that you don't want to talk about it, probably don't want anyone to know in the first place, but I promise you I am here to help. I know it is scary and difficult but please trust me enough to treat your hurts; we can talk about what happens next afterward alright." said John as reassuringly and soothingly as he could.

Harry sat silently for several seconds before nearly imperceptibly nodding his consent.

John let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, they had made it past a major hurdle, accepting help.

"Okay Harry, we need to get you shirt off, would you like my help, or do you prefer to do it yourself?" he questioned, keeping his tone soft and comforting without being condensing; it was a tone that good doctored perfected with practice.

"I can do it." the teen mumbled as he started removing his uninjured right arm. John observed carefully as Harry removed his overly large and stained shirt from his skinny frame.

John could clearly see all of the boys ribs, though there was a decent amount of muscle covering them, with a few good meals, the boy would easily reach his ideal weight. The skinny but muscled frame would make sense if he went to a boarding school with consistent meals during the school year, but had few or pitiful meals at home during the summer and his early developmental years. He could also see his bruised and swollen left shoulder, and a healing gash on the inside of the boy's right arm starting at the wrist and ending at the bend in the elbow. He prayed that it had not been intentionally done on the teen's part.

"Alright Harry I'm going to look at your shoulder first and go from there okay?" John said as he slowly reached for the shoulder in question.

John could feel and see the tension radiating from the boy as he braced for the touch, and felt Harry startle slightly when he made contact.

"Harry let me know if something hurts, or you need or want me stop, and I will do so." John informed his teenaged patient, as he gently palpated the shoulder joint.

As he suspected, the shoulder was not dislocated. As he worked his way across the shoulder towards the chest, John could just make out a distinct bump at the acromioclavicular joint; it was clear that Harry had a separated shoulder, something that was always caused by a sudden, jolting trauma such as a direct blow to the shoulder, or in result of a fall onto an outstretched and bracing arm. John strongly suspected it was the latter option.

"Well it seems that you have a Type Two Separated Shoulder Harry; that means that the ligaments in your shoulder that hold the clavicle in place have been stretched and torn, and that the AC joint capsule has also been damaged a bit. The good news is that you won't have to have an operation to fix it, it will heal on its own, though you will need some physical therapy, and we will have fit you with a sling to immobilize you shoulder." John informed the teen.

When Harry made no attempt to ask questions he continued. "We will control the pain with a combination of heat and cold therapy as well as a bit of ibuprofen."

Finally Harry spoke again. "What will happen if I don't get the physical therapy and sling?"

John fixed Harry with a somber look before answering, wanting the boy to comprehend the seriousness of the treatment.

"I'm not going to lie to you Harry; if you do physical therapy and use a sling appropriately you will have a full to nearly full recovery. If on the other hand, you don't rest it in a sling or do physical therapy, there is a large chance you could tear through the other tendon and end up with permanent shoulder damage and limited mobility."

The teenager worried his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowed, and John cold practically see the back and forth thoughts battling it out in the boy's head. Finally after several dragging minutes of silence Harry seemed to come to a decision. His posture became more confident, his back straighter, and his shoulders squared.

"They won't let me do any of that." the boy said his voice soft but determined.

"Who won't let you Harry?" questioned John, keeping his body language open and his hands in clear view. He didn't want to give Harry any reason to fear or distrust him.

"My Aunt and Uncle, they don't exactly like me. To them I am an unwanted burden and there is no way they would let me have the sling; it might interfere with my chores." The green eyed teen said matter of factly with just a hint of resentment.

"Do you have a lot of chores?" John asked trying to keep Harry talking.

"Yeah, I cook, and I clean the house inside and out. I do the laundry, take care of the garden, wash the car, and any other little chores my uncle can come up with. He is very fond of making my chore list impossibly long; I hardly ever get it done in a day."

"And what happens if you don't get all of your chores done" John asked not really sure he wanted to know.

"I get punished." the boy replied flatly.

"And how do they punish you Harry." John inquired. He desperately wanted to move closer to the teen, or to offer some form of comfort but he was afraid it would scare Harry off; not something he wanted to do.

"It depends on their mood." Harry said and john noticed he was trembling slightly. "Sometimes they only take away my food privileges for a few days, or lock me in my room for a bit. If my Uncle is really mad I might get locked in my cupboard."

John was horrified at the thought of Harry being deprived of food for days, and knew that he would have to come back to the cupboard comment, but right now the teen was ignoring the one thing John really needed to know.

"Harry has your Aunt or Uncle ever hit you?" John questioned softly.

"Sometimes" Harry mumbled. "My Uncle likes push, shove, and grab when he yells, and if he is really angry he has a tendency to use me as his punching bag and beating post. My aunt just calls me a freak, and lets Dudley and his friends beat me up." Harry was pale and shaky and John couldn't blame him; he himself was feeling rather sick. He would never understand how anyone could do things like this to a child.

John took a deep breath, "Alright Harry thank you for telling me all of this, for trusting me enough to speak up; it was a very brave thing to do. Now, we need to get you out of that house, but we will need evidence to do so. I have a friend in New Scotland Yard, Detective Inspector Lestrade, if you let me, I can give him a call and he can come and take a statement and photographs and we can get you out of there. Will you let me call him?"

John prayed that Harry would let him call Greg so they could get him out of that wretched home and put his relatives in prison.

"Okay, you can call him." Harry finally consented, "but first, can you do a paternity test for me?"

John paused on his way out the door.

"Well it depends, for a paternity test you have to have two DNA samples that are then sent to a lab for comparison, so in order to do one for you I would have to have your DNA and a sample from the man you think is your father."

"Oh," Harry said looking disappointed. "I suppose that won't work than."

The teen looked so put out that Jon couldn't help but try to think of a way to help him.

"If you know the man's name we can always try to talk to him and see if he would volunteer a sample or we could have Lestrade look into it." He said.

"That still wouldn't work." Harry replied.

"Why not?" John asked curiously.

"Because the man my Mum had an affair with is dead; The man that I think is my father was Sherlock Holmes."

**A/N: **Oh my goodness you guys are AMAZING! I never thought that such a short first chapter would get so much attention! Thank you for all of the follows, favorites, and Reviews, I appreciate every one of them! I also want to give a special thanks to** Kami-no-Namida **for leaving such an encouraging and thought inspiring review and **ShadowTomes **whose review made me smile when I was having a bad day! Thank you all so much, I hope you enjoyed chapter 2! Also Sherlock will be coming back and the John/Sherlock paring is way up in the poll so that will probably be the paring, thanks for helping with that! : )

Happy reading,

Godiva9


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: **T

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Previously_: "Because the man my Mum had an affair with is dead; the man that I think is my father was Sherlock Holmes."_

Chapter 3

"I'm sorry, I think I misheard, can you repeat that?" the blond doctor said with a forced calm.

Harry took a deep breath and repeated, "I'm almost positive that Sherlock Holmes is my father."

Harry eyed Doctor Watson warily as the man took in his statement, and he prepared to flee or fight if the man reacted poorly.

Harry would usually categorized Doctor Watson as the calm, cool level headed one, the kind of person that hardly anything ever fazed, the one that it would take a lot to get him riled up. After reading the doctors blog however, Harry learned that the ex army doctor had a fierce side full of steely determination, protection, and fire.

It was clear that once you made him angry or hurt someone he loved, you would really wish you hadn't. After all Harry was nearly ninety eight percent sure that Doctor Watson was the person who shot Mister Hope in the Study in Pink case; Moriarty would have used a sniper rifle like he did in the case The Great Game, and it was highly unlikely that a cab driver had any enemies that were_ that_ good with a gun. How the police didn't catch on Harry would never know.

Focusing back on the task at hand, Harry cataloged the Doctors reaction to his admittedly abrupt and shocking announcement.

Doctor Watson's shoulders were tense, fists balled, legs shoulder with a part, his jaw clinched breathing rapid, and eyes narrowed; not good. Harry felt his anxiety rise and his fight or flight instincts kick in full stop. It was clear Doctor Watson was angry and didn't believe him.

The Doctor's fiery side was showing, his body language revealing strain, defiance, anger and to Harry's surprise pain and betrayal.

"No, no it's not possible, he would have known, he would have told me! Who put you up to this?" The doctor asked taking a threatening step forward.

Harry couldn't help his instinctual step back, something that seemed to register with Doctor Watson as the man shook himself slightly and step backed, his fists slowly uncurling and his breathing slower.

"Who put you up to this, why would you agree to do it?"

"No one put me up to this" Harry said quickly raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I was working on ancestry assignment for school, and I found ... one of my mum's diaries."

Harry hoped doctor Watson would think his hesitation was caused by overwhelming emotions and not because he was making that little tidbit up.

"Some of the diary was illegible because it had been in a fire, but my mum said she had an affair with a man in the autumn of 1989. That man was named Sherlock Holmes and when I was born on July thirty-first, 1990 she believed that I was his son and not James'; I don't think she ever told either man about her suspicions…or the affair. " Harry finished sadly. He didn't understand why is Mum would cheat on his dad, everyone always said they were deeply in love.

Harry paused glancing at Doctor Watson. The man looked calmer and reason was returning to his storm gray eyes. Harry couldn't help but wonder why the man had such a strong reaction to the possibility his flatmate had a child; perhaps the rumors about them being a couple were more fact than fiction.

Either way Harry prayed that this man would be able to confirm that he was actually Sherlock's son and maybe if he was really lucky, Doctor Watson could help him find out if he had any other blood relations that would take him in and away from the Dursleys. Taking a deep breath Harry waited anxiously as Doctor Watson decided what he would do next.

HPWHJWHSHMH

John stood still as stone as he thought through everything he had just been told. It seemed an utterly ridiculous notion that Sherlock Holmes had slept with a woman, a married woman no less, created a child and that knew nothing about said child. It just didn't make sense, there would have been a birth announcement or a first birthday picture in the paper and while the detective didn't usually bother himself with such trivial things, John knew that Sherlock would have taken notice of any mention of the girl he had slept with.

As much as the tall man denied it, he did remember the names of the few people he had slept with and even kept tabs on their lives occasionally. It had bothered John at first, Sherlock's stalking of his ex's and one night stands, until he had realized that in his own way, the detective was showing that he cared, that even his brief dalliances had meant something to him.

It was because of this that John could not imagine Sherlock would have hidden the fact that he child from him, especially after they… John quickly shoved that painful thought away; he couldn't think about it right now. On the other hand Sherlock not knowing about the boy seemed impossible.

Then there was the fact that the teen before him was quite clearly abused. The marks on the boy's body spoke for themselves and John had not missed the way Harry had flinched away from him when he had taken an angry step forward. There was no way Sherlock would have missed the signs if he had been keeping tabs on the teen, and John knew for a fact that Sherlock would not have left any child of his in an abusive household; he hated abusers and felt they were one of the worst criminals.

John supposed this could be one huge setup or scam but neither Harry nor anyone else would gain much by lying about the teen's parentage, especially with the way the public viewed Sherlock at the moment. Anyone claiming to be a relation of Sherlock's would become a pariah; he himself had several nasty run ins with people who believed that Sherlock was a liar and a kidnapper.

The Doctor looked at Harry again and he couldn't deny that the teen looked like Sherlock; even some of his mannerisms reminded him of the late detective and John felt his face soften involuntary. He heaved a sigh and rubbed at the tension building at his brow.

The only way John would be able to say definitively that Harry was or was not Sherlock's son would be through a paternity test, which as Harry said, would be impossible to do without Sherlock's DNA. John thought for a moment before a smirk crossed his lips. He may not have access to Sherlock's DNA but he did have the next best thing.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his mobile and pushed the number one on his speed dial automatically dialing a number he had not used in nearly three years. It was the number of the only man that could help him figure this out; Mycroft Holmes. After two and partial rings Mycroft himself answered briskly.

"Holmes."

"Mycroft its John, I have a problem that needs your delicate touch; how fast can you get to the Barts clinic?"

"I can be there in fifteen minutes if it is truly needed, but I am in the middle of a rather tremulous situation, can't it wait?"

"No Mycroft it really can't." John said resolutely.

"Very well I will be there in fifteen minutes." the man replied and John detected a bit of worry in his tone that no one else would be likely to pick up on.

"Right, see you then." said John as he hung up.

"Okay Harry here's what's going to happen." John said as he carefully helped the boy secure his arm and shoulder in a sling. "I called...a friend to come and help me figure out what exactly is going on, he can help us find the the truth."

John saw the teen open his mouth to protest and quickly cut him off "Now I am not saying that I don't believe you, mind you I'm not saying that I do, but we need to find the truth and Mycroft can help with that."

Harry looked deep in thought his brow puckered I middle of his forehead.

"Mycroft...he's Sherlock's brother right?"

John's eyebrows roes in surprise the fact that Sherlock and Mycroft were related was not common knowledge, it was restricted to government officials, Mycroft's security team, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. Mycroft constantly worried that someone would hurt Sherlock in an attempt to get to him, and therefore had kept the fact they were related as quite as possible.

"Yes he is; I'm surprised you know that it's not common knowledge." John said trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

"Really? Hmm, I must have read it somewhere; I did a lot of reading up on you and Sherlock before I came. I wanted to make sure I had the right person before I made contact." The teen said with a shrug before focusing his seaweed green eyes on John, making him feel as if the teen was seeing deep into his soul.

"You really trust and care about Mycroft don't you Doctor. Watson?" the teen asked with a calculating look. John shivered at how much that look favored Sherlock and even Mycroft.

"I should hope he is at least somewhat found of me considering he is my brother in law Mister Potter. Now John, what on earth are you doing with the Boy-Who-Lived and why does it require my immediate presence? "

HPWHJWHSHMH

Harry had watched and listened carefully as Doctor Watson pushed number one on his mobile and talked to the person who answered. It amazed Harry how much the man calmed. Though the ex army captain still held himself at the ready, it was slightly more relaxed the stress lines fading a bit form his face. Perhaps he saw the man as a commander who had his back?

When Doctor Watson brought up the name Mycroft, Harry realized that the man he talked on the mobile to must have been Sherlock's brother, he clearly remembered the name from his Lineage Ligno assignment, after all it wasn't everyday you saw the names Mycroft and Sherlock.

Harry had just asked the Doctor if he was close with Mycroft when the man in question walked through the door.

The man was tall Harry estimated him to be two meters or so, with a simultaneously slender and sturdy build. The man's thinning red hair somehow made him more imperious, and the black umbrella he was using nonchalantly to balance his leaning stance gave the impression that he had all of the power and could take whatever you threw at him.

To Harry he felt cold and dangerous, impressive and commanding, he clearly worked for the government and had to hold a position of power, overall Harry didn't know what to make of the man that was his biological Uncle.

It Harry had just finished his examination of the man when the redheaded dropped several bombs Harry was not expecting. First was the news that some point Sherlock and John had gotten married, and second was that his uncle already knew who he was, at the man knew he was The-Boy-Who-Lived.

'Why couldn't things ever go right? Harry thought angrily. 'This was supposed to be a quick expedition to find out more about his father and whether or not he had any living relatives he might call upon. Instead it turned into a discovery of his abuse and the finding relative that already knew of his existence in the wizarding world and who may or may not be a threat to him.

Harry cursed in his head as he realized he had left his pack out of reach and was therefore unable to get to his wand. He started to edge slowly over to his pack, but Mycroft must have realized his intent and spoke up.

"Now, now Mister Potter do you really want to incur the wrath of the ministry for yet another use of underage wizardry? In the current political climate I really wouldn't recommend drawing attention to yourself." his Uncle said with a condescending drawl.

Taking a step towards the man Harry forgot to be afraid as his anger at the man's tone took over.

"How do you know who I am? Are you a wizard? I thought your family was Muggle?" Harry said aggressively stepping a bit closer to the man.

"Woah, hold on." Doctor Watson said moving to separate the two. "What exactly are you two talking about?" the Doctor asked looking confused.

Harry unintentionally looked to Mycroft to answer as he was clearly the one with the most authority in the room, and Harry did not want to add to his troubles by breaking the Statute of Secrecy. He regretted it a moment later however when he saw the man's slight smirk and the man's emotions clearly shown with amusement.

"We are clearly discussing the fact that magic is real and Mister Potter here is a wizard. Do try to keep up Doctor Watson." Harry looked at the man that was his uncle in shock; that really was not the most gentle or tactful way to tell the man who was now looking at the both of them as if they should be institutionalized as soon as possible.

The well dressed man turned back to Harry, "and to answer your question, I am neither a Muggle nor a wizard, but a squib descended from a nearly forgotten line of wizards." the redhead took a step closer to Harry who in turn backed up closer to Doctor Watson.

"Now you will answer my question Mister Potter, what is the savior of the wizarding world doing in a Muggle clinic and why does it require my presence?" the man's tone a combination of menacing and polite.

Harry did not know how to tell the intimidating man that he was his dead brother's son, and Harry was grateful when Doctor Watson answered for him after a few seconds of silence.

"Mycroft stop with the menacing British Government act and sit down." the doctor said pointing to a rolling stool until the man sat. It was Harry's turn to smirk as Mycroft grudgingly followed orders.

"Good," Doctor Watson said with a nod. "Now Mycroft I need you to open your mouth, don't talk just do it." the man said firmly.

When Mycroft did as asked Harry watched with interest as the Doctor ran a cotton swab around the other man's mouth. "Wonderful, your turn Harry." The doctor said as he capped off the used swab.

Harry obediently opened his mouth and allowed the doctor to swab for his DNA. It was a strange sensation and it tickled a bit as the swab ran over the roof of his mouth.

"Excellent, now if you two will follow me to the lab, we can get this cleared up." the doctor said as he briskly walked out of the room.

Harry quickly scampered off of the exam table not wanting to be left behind with only Mycroft as company. From behind him, he heard the man sigh in frustration.

"I am still unaware of what we are clearing up, Doctor. Clearly you just took samples of our DNA, so what exactly is this about?"

"Well Mycroft we are clearly checking to see if Harry's claim that Sherlock is his father are true, do try to keep up." the doctor said with a mischievous smile.

Harry looked back at Mycroft and couldn't help but chuckle at what he saw. The big bad government official was standing in the middle of the hall stock still, mouth agape, clearly radiating disbelief and shock. Harry felt it served the man right.

HPWHJWHSHMH

Mycroft observed and listened as John and Mister Potter interacted while the Doctor preformed what he now knew to be a paternity test. He had been utterly perplexed when Doctor Watson called him saying he needed him to come to the clinic, he had not heard from the man in years and he knew it had to be important. When Mycroft had walked in on the Doctor he had expected to find out the man had discovered Sherlock's secret, or that he was being threatened, or held at gun point; he had not expected to find Harry Potter in his exam room, and he had been shocked to his very core when the man said the boy might be Sherlock's.

It was no secret to Mycroft that his brother had had several encounters of an intimate nature with members of both sexes before he had married John. However it was nearly inconceivable that one of those trysts may have produced an heir that went undetected and the fact that said heir might be Harry Potter was hardly within the realm of imaginable.

Having said that, the boy certainly had traits that resembled his dear brother; from the dark messy locks too the way Harry had challenged him, they all positively screamed Sherlock. The teen also seemed to be reasonably intelligent for a fourteen year old as the boy seemed to have no trouble following the Doctors explanation that he would be looking at, and comparing the Y chromosome from his and the boy's DNA in order to establish if they were in any way related.

At this point Mycroft would have been surprised if the results came up negative, especially with the way the teen was hanging on the doctors every word, his eyes roaming over the laboratory equipment, his hands twitching as if he had to keep them from touching.

Yes, the boy reminded Mycroft of a younger Sherlock in more ways than one now that he was looking for similarities. Mycroft was glad to see that the boy, if he was indeed Sherlock's, had not inherited his brother's atrocious social-emotional skills; in fact, the boy seemed oddly perceptive about the emotions of others if he was able to pick up on the fact that John had positive emotions for him with only the brief telephone conversation. However, only time would tell if he had inherited the Holmes gift for observations and deductions.

Mycroft was startled from his inner thoughts, not that anyone would have been able to tell, by the sound of Doctor Watson cursing breathily.

"Bloody Hell it's true; Mycroft its true, Harry is Sherlock's son!" Mycroft observed that if John hadn't already been sitting, the poor man probably would have been on the floor. Well he supposed it was a bit astounding to find out that your "dead" husband had a son that no one knew existed.

Mycroft sighed heavily before turning to the teen; this was certainty going to complicate matters.

"Well Harry, it seems that we have a few things to work out doesn't it?" he said. "Doctor Watson please take the boy to your flat. I will have the necessary paperwork drawn up to remove him from his current abusive environment and into your custody as soon as possible and meet you there shortly." He ordered as he headed towards the door.

"Wait, What?" the doctor exclaimed.

"Take the boy to your flat John certainly you can understand the English language."

Mycroft opened the door as John sputtered, before turning around to address the teen that started this fiasco.

"Oh and Harry?"

"Yes sir?" the teen replied nervously.

"Do accept my welcome into the family; I shall see you shortly nephew mine."

As Mycroft closed the door, he pulled out his phone and hit the number five.

"Anthea, activate the locater my dear brother, its time he and I had a little talk.

HPWHJWHSHMH

Eight Days later

Mycroft sat heavily disguised in a cold, hard steel chair in the middle of nowhere Serbia, as his brother trussed up like a Christmas day turkey in a wet dungeon, traded sarcastic and witty remarks with his torturer. Eventually after seeing his brother bashed in the ribs yet again Mycroft sighed and decided he'd had enough; standing he grabbed a heavy rusted metal pipe and smashed it his brother's torture's skull. Hopeful it was not hard enough to kill the man but if it was…well it would be no great loss.

Mycroft stepped over the man on the floor, stood in front of his brother and firmly but gently pulled back on the messy ebony locks to make sure he had Sherlock's attention.

"It looks like it is just you and me. Now, listen to me, there's been an unexpected development in London that very heavily involves you and your past exhibitions. Sorry, brother mine but the holiday is over; it's back to Baker Street with you Sherlock Holmes."

**A/N: **Okay so here is chapter three, I hope you guys are not to upset about last chapters cliffy and that this is a more acceptable ending. ; ) Anyway, You guys are absolutely amazing! I didn't expect so many wonderful reviews or for so many people to follow, favorite or add the story to a community! It really is heartwarming and humbling! Also sorry for the delay in this chapter and I apologize if I did to respond to your review this go around (something I always try to do) My Great Grandmother passed away suddenly (well suddenly for a ninety year, old we were not expecting her to pass on so soon) and I had to make a frantic turn and burn drive to Memphis Tennessee for her funeral, so I thank you all for waiting patiently. The next chapter will have some more explanations a bit of the wizarding world and maybe Sherlock's introduction back into Harry and John's lives

Happy reading and thank you again,

Godiva9


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: **T

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Chapter 4

Doctor Watson checked his appearance one last time in the full length mirror attached to the inside of his wardrobe door. It was the thirty-first of July, his wards birthday, and he was taking the teen to a posh restaurant to celebrate.

It had been nearly two weeks since he had first met Harry and the teen had really made great strides; the boy had put on weight so he no longer looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over and his separated shoulder was healing nicely. Also to John's great delight, Harry had slowly started to open up to him talking about his school, his friends Ron and Hermione, and a bit about his own magical abilities.

John did wish that the boy would talk about the abuse he suffered at the hands of those brutes he call relatives, but he did not want to push him as Harry still had frequent nightmares, and he had no desire to make them worse. Still, all in all, the teen was doing well; that not to say however, that there hadn't been some bumps along the way.

~flashback~

John stared, mouth agape at the door Mycroft Holmes had just exited.

"Bloody Hell." he breathed out shakily, had he just been given a son? Sherlock's son no less?

His husband was lucky he was already dead, because if he was alive, he may have been tempted to kill him! What was he supposed to do with a teenage boy, who apparently had magical abilities? And since when did Mycroft Holmes believe in magic!?

"Um Doctor Watson, are you alright? Do you need to lay down with your feet up?"

John looked over at the raven haired teen; why would he need to lay down? After a brief moment of internal searching, John made the connection that lying down with ones feet elevated was the treatment for shock. He must look as bad as he felt, if the teen thought he was going into shock and felt the need to help him. John was both amused at the thought and impressed that the boy knew what to do.

"I'm not going into shock, but thanks for the worry." John told Harry with a sincere smile.

He stood a bit straighter as the teen surveyed him, assessing his truthfulness no doubt.

"If you're sure," the boy said after a moment. "Though you might want to have a juice or something, you still look a bit peckish." he finished cheekily, though the teens eyes betrayed his worry.

"I'll manage" John assured the adolescent. "Well I suppose there's nothing to it; we better get home and wait for Mycroft."

Not too long after they arrived at the flat, Mycroft appeared with the change of guardian papers complete with Petunia and Vernon's signatures, adoption papers, Harry's trunk full of his belongings, and a large empty bird cage.

John's heart ached at the way Harry teared up at the site of the vacant cage shakily explaining that his gorgeous white owl Hedwig had been killed by his uncle in a fit of rage. John hadn't been able to resist the temptation to pull the abused teen into a hug, and the murderous gleam in Mycroft's eyes had shown a bit brighter.

After that, Mycroft had encouraged them to sign the adoption papers claiming it would offer better protection, but neither John nor Harry had felt comfortable with that step; instead they the opted for the guardianship.

"Now, we need to keep this as quite as possible to insure both your safety as well as John's, Harry." Mycroft told them both as the Doctor signed the forms.

"I understand." Harry replied, "But what about the Wizarding ministry, will they be able to contest the guardianship since it is Muggle?" He asked, concerned about Dumbledore trying to send him back to the Dursleys.

"Unfortunately this is a definite possibility, and something I am working to insure does not happen." his uncle said as he was rising to leave. "In the mean time I suggest you give John the basics concerning possible wizard interactions from both sides of the war. Good bye gentleman I shall stop by in a few days time to make sure everyone is settling."

"Night Mycroft."

"Good night sir."

"Well than," John said rubbing his hands together. "Why don't we talk about theses wizards I might run into before we head to bed yeah?"

John noticed the way Harry glanced at him uneasily, before lowering his eyes to studying his clasped hands. It was clear to John that Harry really didn't want to give his whole life story to a man he just met even if said man had just become his guardian.

Understanding his reluctance, John quickly reassured him. "You don't have to go into details just give me the basics information so I know what to look for."

Harry looked up and gazed at him intently, searchingly; he must have found whatever it was he was looking for as Harry told him about the war, how his mum and James had been Light and were killed by the Dark and they were not after him because he didn't die when he was supposed to and had caused the leader of the dark to be temporarily incapacitated. Sherlock's son told that hat it was the leader if the Light that had placed him with the Dursleys and how it was possible the man might try to make him go back if they found him. John vowed then and there that was not going to happen.

Throughout Harry's tale, John sat quietly, listening and offering silent support. When the boy finished John clapped him gently on the arm told him that they would just have to make sure that no one found him, and ushered a clearly heavy-eyed Harry up to bed. Little did he know that Harry slept peacefully for the first time all summer.

It was only after he was sure Harry was safely in bed that he gave into his emotions which had been compartmentalized until he could deal with the alone. So it was in the cover of darkness, in the cold bed he had once shared with his husband that John embraced his grief, confusion, anger and worry.

During the next few days however things settled into a routine. John found that Harry was also an early riser and the two would have breakfast together before John went to work. He would come home in the evening to find Harry had done some of his school work, tidied up the flat and would occasionally have dinner started despite John's protests that the teen did not have to cook.

The few arguments they had gotten into involved trying to break the habits Harry's relatives had instilled in him. The first argument had come about when they went clothes shopping. John had to convince the boy that he did not deserve to where the gargantuan hand-me-downs of his cousin and that it was his responsibility to pay for them, and not Harry. Eventually John won that battle, but had not yet succeeded in convincing the emerald eyed teen that he did not have to cook the meals.

~End Flashback~

Despite the few bumps in the road, John thought things were going quite nicely, and he hoped that going out to a decent restaurant to celebrate Harry's birthday would help show the teen that he cared without being overwhelming; John had noticed that too much attention or affection especially in large doses, tended to overpower the affection deprived youth.

Checking the time on his wrist watch, John realized their reservations were in thirty minutes and it would take at least fifteen to get there. Heading to the door, he called for his ward.

"Harry, are you ready? We'd gotta get moving if we're going to make our reservation!"

"Coming Doct-John!" the teen replied back and John smiled, amused at the teens correction of his name. He had told Harry several times he could call him John, but the ever polite teen often forgot and called him Doctor Watson, though it was becoming less frequent.

John smiled warmly at Harry, shoving down a pang as he watched him walk down the hall. The teen's outfit of black slacks and fitted forest green shirt emphasized his resemblance to his father, something that made being around the teen simultaneously hard as he was reminded of what he had lost, and comforting because he had a small piece of his love back.

"You look very dashing Harry." complemented John as he ushered harry out the door.

If Harry noticed the tears building un his eyes, and chances are he did as he was just as observant as his father, he didn't mention it only replying with,"Thanks, you don't look to bad yourself."

HPWHJWHSHMH

Harry looked around the demure Italian restaurant in awe, it was amazing with its beautifully accented vaulted ceilings and shining stone floors and pillars. The square tables were covered in a gold tablecloth embroidered with intricate burnt orange patterns around the edges. The soft light was perfect, giving off enough just the right amount of light, neither too bright nor dim enough to feel overly romantic, if he didn't know better he would have said he was in a restaurant in Tuscany.

Harry had never been to a restaurant this fancy, in fact the only restaurants he had been to were the cafe at the zoo the summer before his first year, and the occasional excursion to the Three Broomsticks during Hogsmeade visits.

Despite his restaurant inexperience, he knew this place had to be expensive and he felt a little guilty that they were here to celebrate his birthday.

"This place is beautiful Doctor Watson, but it has to be a bit pricey." said Harry with a sideways glance at the man beside him.

"It is pretty spectacular isn't." his guardian replied. "And how many times must I remind you to call me John."

Harry smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, I am trying John."

"I know Harry, these past couple of weeks have been quite trying, and on the whole you have adapted remarkably well. I have to admit I am just a bit proud of you." John said, laying a hand on his good shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze.

Harry suddenly found it hard to swallow, as they were escorted to their table, and he felt tears forming rapidly; no one had ever acted been so paternal towards him before, it was an extremely nice feeling.

John either feeling overly emotional himself or noticing Harry's emotional state quickly changed the subject.

"Hehem, right well let's look over our menus shall we? And don't worry about the price I have enough money to pay for a nice meal to celebrate your birthday." his guardian said jokingly.

"Right, okay," Harry replied thorough his still tight throat, as he picked up the menu in front of him.

Though he had only known John for a few weeks the doctor had already shown more care and concern for him then the Dursleys ever had, and he made him feel safe in a way that even Hogwarts didn't. The man had a quiet confidence about him that projected safety, protection and caring. John had been nothing but kind to him, despite the fact that he was an unexpected burden and constant reminder of his dead husband, even going so far as to wake him from his nightmares and telling him stories of his detective dad in spite of the pain and sadness it evoked.

John was one of the few truly good people Harry had ever met, and Harry swore that he would do everything in his power to make John happy again and to keep him from getting hurt. Harry was so deep in these thoughts that he startled slightly when the waiter came back and asked for their order.

"Um I'll have the Braciole with pasta please." Harry said wanting to try something new.

While they were waiting the two talked about lots of things spending a pleasant evening bonding and getting to know one another better. The evening was definitely shaping up to be one of Harry's best birthdays ever, second only to his eleventh, but honestly finding out you're a wizard would be hard to beat.

As the evening wore on however Harry started feeling strange, his magic humming in a way it never had before. It wasn't uncomfortable per-say it was almost as if his magic was reaching out, searching and anticipating something. It didn't feel dangerous but it put Harry on edge, and left him searching for the cause.

"Harry are you alright, you seem a bit anxious." John asked sounding worried.

"Yeah I'm fine it's just my mag...um sixth sense is agitated, it feels a bit weird." Harry said with a cautioning glance at the surrounding Muggles.

Harry watched in wonder as John understood the meaning behind his words and transformed before his eyes from the kind laid back doctor, to the ready for anything army captain.

"Do we need to worry about visitors?" John asked his tone calm. Harry knew he was preparing himself for battle.

"I don't think so, but maybe we should call it a night and finish up this celebration at home."

"I'll get the check then," the doctor said making to stand.

"Oh, you're leaving already; I was hoping I could join you. Have a chat for old times' sake?" came a rich baritone from the shadowed corner next to their table.

Harry tensed and slowly positioned his hand so that he would be able to slip his wand from the holster on his arm in seconds.

A quick glance at John showed Harry that the ex-army man had tensed as well, but Harry quickly became alarmed when he saw the man had also grown deathly pale and had a thin sheen of sweat was covering his guardians brow.

Hoping John was alright and could pull himself together, the teen focused his attention back on the intruder, only to find the owner of the voice had stepped out from the shadows and was looking at John with a mix of guilt, regret, hope and…love?

An outrageous and impossible idea popped into Harry's head and he quickly took in the stranger's appearance to confirm his theory. The man was around 1.83 meters, with a wiry frame, messy ebony locks and bright intelligent blue green eyes, which never seemed to leave John for long.

"Sher-Sherlock?" Harry heard John whisper in-between frantic breaths.

Harry sucked in a breath. John had just confirmed his theory that this man was, or more probably, _looked_ like Sherlock.

"Oh Merlin" Harry said thinking how cruel it was for anyone to force John to see his dead husband walking around, and for himself to see his dad in the flesh only for it to be a copy. He was sure this was the work of a polyjuiced wizard.

"Not quite Merlin I assure you." the man masquerading as Sherlock said condescendingly, looking directly at him for the first time.

Harry felt the man's gaze analyzing him quickly before dismissing him and focusing on back on John.

A sudden movement from his right made Harry realize that John was lunging for 'Sherlock' whether to hug or hit he wasn't sure, but until Harry knew what was going on, he was not letting that man anywhere near his guardian.

"John wait!" Harry bit out sharply, hoping a commanding tone would trigger the military man in him.

Luckily it did and the doctor stopped mid lung to look at him.

"How do we know this is the real Sherlock?" he said franticly trying to get John to listen. "You saw him jump, you saw his body and we know that this Moriarty guy had money and influence, this could all be some elaborate hoax; or it could be _something else_." Harry said emphasizing the something else hoping the man would get the hint.

Harry could feel the imposter detective's eyes boring into him, and a quick look showed the man was appraising him again, this time with just a bit more attention and a grudging respect.

"Harry that man looks exactly like Sherlock Holmes, no one could fake some of those details, even with plastic surgery; for heaven's sake even his bloody moles are in the right places! Nobody is that good! Now please move out of the way so I can kill him, for real!" shouted the irate doctor.

Harry took a small unconscious step back. Shouting adults never ended well for him, but he couldn't let John do something he would regret later.

"There are ways it can be done, I've seen it Doctor Watson, so before you go killing anyone ask him something only the real Sherlock would know. Get the facts before you react."

John stared at Harry for a moment longer before focusing back on the man with fierceness Harry did not know the blond possessed.

"So tell me Sherlock, what did we have engraved on the inside of our wedding bands?"

Harry watched the man carefully looking for any signs he was going to flee attack or lie. Instead he saw the man's entire posture change from on edge and calculating, to one projecting love and tenderness.

"It says 'Sherlock and John, forever Agape'."

John gasped, "It's really you!" for a brief moment Harry could see pure love and relief shining through his guardian before his expression quickly turned to one of pure unadulterated anger .

"Your back! You… you complete and utter dick! It's been three bloody years! Were the Hell have you been!"

Harry couldn't believe that the man standing in front of him was his dad, it was surreal; his dad was alive and standing in front of him.

Hearing the continued shouting however, Harry focused on the situation at hand, namely the fact that John's temper was quickly getting out of control, and judging by the man's body language an all out brawl was not long in coming. They needed to get out of here before someone called the police and his whereabouts were discovered.

"Um John, if you're going to commit a murder, a public restaurant is probably not the best idea; at least if you want to get away with it." Harry said lightly added in a mischievous smirk for good measures. He hoped they could at least get back to the flat before the fighting really started.

"Besides John, killing me, that is so last year."

"Oh you bastard!" John said and before Harry could stop him, the ex-Army doctor cocked his arm and gave Sherlock a spectacular punch to the nose. Harry could help but wince as he heard his dad's nose break.

"Right to 221 then." John huffed out, as he started walking stiffly out of the restaurant, leaving Harry to assist Sherlock off the floor before joining him outside.

**A/N**: You guys are absolutely BRILLIANT! Thank you so much for all of the support and well wishes for me and my family it was much appreciated! : ) I hope this chapter was alright, Sherlock is back! I think the beginning was a bit slow, but I hope the ending made up for it! There should be more direct Sherlock-Harry interaction next chapter, and possibly a look at Harry from Sherlock's POV…maybe… no promises.

Until then, Happy reading!

Godiva9

Also to those reviewers without accounts,

**branchkk (Guest) **Thank you so much for your sympathy and condolences it really means a lot, It was a hard time, but writing helped me cope after several long and stressful days. Thanks again!

**glrt** Your reviews are greatly appreciated, I am glad you like the story!

**I Just Won A Free Toaster **LoL I totally get where you are coming from, I might laugh hysterically at those he goes after, because you know they are in for it, and shudder in fear if he was after me! Thanks for reading and commenting! : )


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: **T

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Chapter 5 By the time Sherlock made it to the waiting cab John and the boy, Harry, his mind supplied, had already taken up residents in the back seats, leaving Sherlock to sit in the front. Sherlock sighed; he hated having to sit in front, but considering the current emotional state of his husband, it might be better for all if he just gave in this one time. Biting back comments about the current seating arrangement, Sherlock sat by the driver, A quick glance to the back passengers told him that John was nowhere near ready to discuss things rationally or quietly, so with a put-upon sigh, he prepared to analyze the events of the past few days in greater detail with the aid of his mind palace, with particularly closes analysis of the scene in the restaurant. He started with Mycroft pulling him out of his deep cover, (he was not rescued by his big brother no matter what others thought, he had everything under control) with his usual dramatics, though it was interesting that the man had decided to do the leg work himself, as everyone who knew Mycroft, knew he abhorred legwork. When they reached the London safe house Mycroft had told him they had thing that they needed to discuss before his miraculous rise from the dead, but Sherlock had not stayed to listen to his brother's ramblings he had better things to do than to listen to what was more than likely another plea to save the government from their own stupidity, so after he had a wash and a shave, Sherlock slipped past security and set out to locate his husband.

It was easy to ascertain John's location with a few well designed and leading inquiries at the doctor office where his husband worked; honestly they were all imbeciles even Anderson would have noticed that his questions were made to get information. From there it was just a short cab ride before Sherlock was standing in a shadowed corner watching his lover and a messy haired teenage boy finish their meal, which, judging by the expense of the restaurant and the clothes they were wearing, was meant to be celebratory.

Sherlock quickly, almost desperately, cataloged the changes in his husband, the extra lines around his eyes and forehead, likely caused by stress, and the gray hairs that would soon be equal to the number of blond. Sherlock also noticed the general air of sorrow and lose that surrounded his love, though it was clear the boy did make some of the heaviness that surrounded the man lessen. Speaking of the boy...

Sherlock turned his mind palace so that it would focus on the teen; who was he, and why was he with _his _John. Sherlock estimated the boy was between thirteen and sixteen years of age, though sixteen may be pushing it. The teen was thin, dangerously so as Sherlock could clearly see the protruding bones in the child's neck and hand. The adolescent's other arm was in a sling designed to keep the shoulder immobile, obviously he had some kind of shoulder or upper chest injury.

Sherlock also noticed the constant glances at the exits and the people around him, it reminded him of the way John had acted when he first came back from Afghanistan, hyper alert and always ready for an attack. It was obvious to any idiot that the boy had been through a long period of trauma that resulted in deeply ingrained survival and observational skills.

Taking all of this into account all of these factors, Sherlock would have to say that the boy had been abused, most likely over a long period of time, though by parents or guardians, Sherlock could not determine without further data. Either way it was clear that the teen was no longer in their care, and that John had become personally invested in the boy's wellbeing, likely because he was the one the teen opened up to. It was a very John thing to do.

Some part of Sherlock's mind registered that they were nearly at 221 and he skipped over his entrance and John's reaction, because honestly, his husband had reacted rather predictably, though the punch to the face though upon further reflection, he may have deserved it. The boy's reaction however was most interesting. He mentioned a sixth sense after he had started to say something else, something that started with an M, and he emphasized to John that just because he looked like Sherlock, didn't mean that he was.

Sherlock listened intently as the boy had explained there were many ways that a person could be made me to resemble another, though some of them were not known to most people. Was, it possible that the teen was aware of the magical world? It seemed possible especially with the sixth sense and the mysterious letter M; however either way it was clear to Sherlock that the boy was intelligent and wise enough to not trust things blindly. It gave Sherlock a feeling of...what was that, pride in the child's abilities? Why would he feel that way, he didn't even know the boy.

Fortunately before he could become to concerned by this new emotion, Sherlock was brought out of his palace by the sound of slamming cab doors, and he realized they had arrived at 221; it was time to face the music.

HPWHJWHSHMH

Harry numbly climbed the steps that led to the flat he shared with John, and now probably Sherlock. He had no doubt that the two men would reconcile, because under the anger, tension and disbelief, Harry could clearly see the love between the two. He could see it in the way they seemed to gravitate towards each other, in the way John's hand twitched as if to grab Sherlock's hand when the man walked beside him and in the way Sherlock held the door open for John making sure to lock eyes with him as the Doctor went through.

Harry was happy for John, he really was; he couldn't imagine what it would be like to believe that your soulmate, the one person who meant the most to you was gone never to come back. Honestly Harry hoped t hat he would find love like that one day, but right now his delight for John and Sherlock's reunion was overwhelmed by the nauseous, churning feeling in his stomach. Sherlock was alive…Sherlock was his Dad…his Dad was alive.

Harry didn't know what to feel, he didn't know what to do. Should he wait to tell Sherlock until after he and John had made up? Should he tell the man at all?

Harry had clearly seen the way Sherlock had looked him over and then dismissed him as if he didn't matter. Harry let a sigh escape him, it would be just his luck that he would find his father only to discover the man wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't know what he would do if he discovered the man knew of his existence and had never tried to see him.

Harry automatically sat in his favorite chair, he thought John had motioned once that it was Sherlock's favorite seat, and watched as John bustled about the kitchen preparing tea for everyone. Harry couldn't help but smile, if there was one thing he had learned about John in the short time he had known him, it was that the man loved his tea and the more stressed or anxious he was, the more tea he drank. A quick glance at Sherlock who had been forced to sit on the sofa, showed the man was also sporting a small loving, if exasperated smirk. Obviously Sherlock was familiar with, and amused by, the Doctor's tea habits.

Harry he murmured a quite thanks to John as the man handed him a mug, adding several spoon full's of sugar and a dash of milk. He watched the husbands carefully as John handed Sherlock a mug, and noted how the men's fingers lingered a bit before pulling back. Yes, it was blindingly obvious that those two still loved each other and their relationship would heal after a lot of talking and a bit of time; he only wished he was a certain about his place in their life.

HPWHJWHSHMH

John took a large gulp of his nearly boiling tea, savoring the burn as it scalded his mouth and throat. His husband, his bloody stupid, yet unnaturally inelegant and handsome husband was alive. When he had first seen the man at the restaurant, he had been amazed and elated before quickly becoming furiously angry. How a man as brilliant as his husband could think he could just waltz back from the dead and slip right back into their old patterns without consequence he would never know.

John supposed that was just how Sherlock was; he always had, and always would, react to things differently than the average person. Though he was still beyond angry with the man, John had no doubt that he and Sherlock would be alright.

Yes, they would scream, fight, yell and explain their side of things, but then they would make up in some of the most miraculous and physical ways, and then they would be back to chasing criminals, saving the day, and being loving husbands.

At least John hoped things would go that well; he still had to tell Sherlock about Harry, assuming the man didn't know about him, and Sherlock's reaction to the news would be the deciding factor in their future relationship.

There was no way that John would allow Harry to return to his relatives and he was going to adopt the teen no matter what. If Sherlock couldn't handle having the boy around, or if the detective wouldn't take responsibility for Harry, as much as it would hurt, John would take himself and the boy elsewhere; Harry didn't need to live in another environment in which he wasn't wanted, or was resented.

'Right,' John thought. 'So the first thing he needed to do was to tell Sherlock about his son, now how to go about it?'

"Well Sherlock I asked you for one more miracle and here you are."

"Yes here I am," the man said seriously, though his eyes showed his happiness. "and here you are and so is, Harry; but the question is who is Harry, John, and how did he come to be at 221 B?"

Relief swept through John, he couldn't have asked for a better opening. However just as he took a breath to tell Sherlock _exactly_ who Harry was the boy in question interrupted.

"Seriously? I am in the room and I can hear you! You could talk to me instead of pretending like I don't exist.

John watched as Sherlock's eyes lit up and he looked at the boy with a renewed interest.

"Ooo I can see why John likes you; the two of you share a temper. Very well than Harry, who are you and how did you come to sharer lodgings with my John mmm?

"You're the detective deduce me Mister Holmes." The teen answered challengingly.

"As you wish." Sherlock said before steepling his fingers and pressing them against his lips in what John dubbed his deduction pose.

John was equal parts curious about what Sherlock would come up with, and anxious for the boy who was his ward, Sherlock was not known for niceties and tact during his deductions. He supposed he would just have to see what happened and intervene if things got out of control.

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Harry swallowed hard as the detective dissected him with his piercing blue eyes. Upon reflection it may not have been the brightness idea to challenge his genius detective father to deduce him, but it had been incredibly irritating to listen to the two men to talk about him as if he wasn't in the room and in combination with his anxiousness about revealing his parentage he had just lashed out demanding that the man deduce him.

"So Harry what do we know about you? Well the state of you clothing gives little away except that the clothes are new probably bought within the last two or so weeks, which is judging by your familiarity with John but the still slightly tense way in which you seated yourself on the furniture about the same amount of time you have been living here. However the inability to relax could be leftover from your previously abusive environment most likely at the hands of a non parent relative, which is clearly told by the near dangerous thinness of your body, the injury to your shoulder, your constant state of hyperawareness and your slight flinching at loud speech. Am I right so far?"

With eyes widened in shock, and his throat dry, Harry nodded silently waiting for the rest.

"Then there's the fact that you are living with John. As the two of you look nothing alike it is highly unlikely that you are related, though I suppose you could be related through marriage, but knowing John as I do it is more likely that you came to the clinic for your injuries, and my loving, caring John couldn't let you go. So how did I do?"

Harry gazed at Sherlock in awe, the man absolutely earned his reputation; how anyone could have thought the man was a fake was beyond him.

"I- I did move in a little over three weeks ago, and I _did_ meet John at the clinic, though my main reason for going wasn't my injuries. John _was_ kind enough to let me move in, and to get me some new clothes and we are not related." Harry stated matter of fact.

"Spot on then, I am getting extremely good at this." Sherlock said clearly pleased with himself.

Harry took a deep breath and braced himself for whatever reaction Sherlock would have.

"I went to see John because I found out that you, Sherlock Holmes, are my father and as everyone thought that you were dead, John was the only one who could tell me the truth about you."

"Oh of course, my son! It makes perfect sense really, even John isn't quite in the habbit of bringing home abused children, and we do look alike; why didn't I think of that" Sherlock murmured to himself sounding slightly frustrated. "There's always something!" the detective said exasperatedly.

Harry eyed Sherlock curiously; he response was not quite on the spectrum of reactions he was expecting.

Wondering what exactly was happing Harry looked to John questioningly; did the man still not get it? He had said that Sherlock was his father out loud right?

John gave him a smile and mouthed at him to wait. He held up three fingers before slowly putting one down, then another, and then…

"He's my WHAT!?"

**A/N:** Well there it is, not quite the reunion/realization scene many were hoping for, but it is one step closer. I also want to apologize for the long wait for chapter and for the cliffhanger. I have been busy lately (summer class and summer work hours) and I must admit that my muse took a blow when I received some very judgmental and harsh reviews (all from the same person). I managed to gain back my confidence however thanks to many other reviews and the encouragement of **mandancie** thank you so much!

Also just for the record I know that my spelling is not perfect, and there is a reason for it; I have a mild case of dyslexia and dysgraphia. As dyslexia is different in every person, I have always been able to read well, but I sometimes miss sounds and I often memorize the way a word looks instead of actually reading the word through sounding out or other means. Due to this my spelling is atrocious, and I often mix up words with similar spelling.

As I love reading and writing, I feel fortunate that I am not as bad off as my brother who is going into high school unable to spell some basic words or to read above a third grade level despite his genius IQ level. I am not looking for sympathy; I just want everyone to think before leaving overly mean or harsh reviews on stories. You don't know a person's life story or what challenges they may be facing, there may be an underlying issue you don't know about so think before you type.

Now to thank some guest reviewers!

**Glrt** Oh Wow! Thank you so much, I am sorry for the slow update this go around.

**RAINBOWSARECOOL (Guest)** Thank you for you kind update, it came just after someone flamed all four of my chapters, and acted as a balm for my poor abused muse! Thanks again, I hope you continue to enjoy.

**angie (Guest) **I am sorry that you are irritated by Harry's fear of being sent back into an abusive situation, however it is a common and real fear in abused children, especially those that runaway. They fear they will be sent back/forced back into an abusive situation. Just to clarify, Harry will NOT be sent back to the Dursleys and the Holmes brothers WILL take care of them to insure it doesn't happen, we just haven't gotten their yet.

I also feel that Harry's fear is legitimate because he always has to go back, in cannon Dumbledore didn't address the situation, and even the Minister of Magic didn't acknowledge that there might have been a problem with Harry's home life in the Prisoner of Azkaban, though he clearly knew soothing was amiss. Anyway thanks for reading and reviewing, I appreciate your comments especially since you were not rude about it! : D


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: **T

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

**_Previously _**_John gave him a smile and mouthed at him to wait. He held up three fingers before slowly putting one down, then another, and then…_

_"__He's my WHAT!?"_

Chapter 6

"Your son, Sherlock, the biological result of your sperm mixing with a female's egg; please tell me I do not have to explain the technical aspects of reproduction to you at your age." came a familiar drawl from the door.

"Hello again brother, took you long enough to track me down, and no I am quite familiar with all aspects of reproduction, I have told you before, sex don't frighten me. I am however trying to figure out how the boy came to be, I always used protection and that protection never broke so there is less than a one percent chance that conception would have taken place. I have never found record of any of the women I have ever slept with having a child matching the boy's age or description this is impossible."

Harry was both repulsed by the new information about his father's sex life and disheartened that the man didn't want to believe that Harry was his. It seemed that he was forever doomed to have adults that didn't want him or couldn't care for him, John being the only exception.

Sherlock turned to face Harry, who froze at the intense gaze; it was as if Sherlock was expecting the answers to suddenly write themselves across his skin.

"How is it you came to be?" the detective murmured.

Harry paused before giving the only answer he had though it was not one he was happy with, "I can't know for sure, as my Mum is dead, but I assume I was the result of an affair."

Harry, unable to stand the intensity of his father's gaze any longer looked to the floor placing his head in his hands and murmured quietly "I guess my uncle was right I am bastard and a freak."

HPWHJWHSHMH

John couldn't help but smile slightly at the horrified look Harry's face when Sherlock started to discussion and analyses his past sex life in an attempt to discover how Harry came to be his son. After all, no child wanted to know anything about their parent's sex life, in fact, most wanted to pretend their parents didn't have a sex life.

All humor quickly left him however when Harry put his head in his hands in defeat and mumbled that his uncle was right and that he was both a bastard and a freak. John leaped from his seat, slowing only when he noticed Harry flinch at the sound, and slowly walked over and kneeling in front of the teen.

"Harry look at me." When the teen didn't respond, John placed his forefinger under the adolescent's chin and gently lifted his head forcing the boy to look at him. When he was sure he had Harry's attention he spoke.

"Harry you are not a freak, you never have been and you never will be. Your uncle, and I use that term loosely, is wrong so very wrong, you are a bright, kind talented person Harry, and someone I care deeply about. I know it is hard to believe after all you have been told, but you are perfectly fine the way you are, and I will repeat this until you believe me, you are _not_ a freak.

"I must concur with John Harry," Sherlock added his voice surprisingly tender, "you are not a freak, I have seen criminals whom I would consider freaks, and you child do not have any of their characteristics."

John turned to give his husband a loving look before focusing back on the raven-haired teen.

"There you see, if the great Sherlock Holmes deduces that you are not a freak, it must be true." He was gratified to see a small smile grace the teen's features.

"Yah I suppose." Harry replied feebly.

"Wonderful," Sherlock said with clap of his hands "now that we have settled this for the moment, let talk about your mother, see if we can discover how it is you are my son, I assume that DNA tests were performed?"

John shook his head in exasperation at his husband's lack of tact, "Yes Sherlock, we did a paternity test but maybe now's not the best time to go into all of this?"

John felt a small hand placed over his "Its okay John I would rather just get this figured out, and I don't think he means it in a bad way, he is just excited by the mystery, hates being confused, and though he would never admit it, he cares." Harry said looking over John's shoulder to lock eyes with Sherlock.

HPWHJWHSHMH

For a full minute silence rang about the flat and Harry began squirm under the stare of the adults who were all looking at him in various states of surprise or curiosity and he began wonder if he had said too much.

Sherlock looked surprised, before studying him in a calculating and knowing away that reminded him of Dumbledore's x-ray stare.

"Exactly John, Harry is right better to clear this up now than to let it ruminate and fester over night. Now what was your mother's name Harry?"

Harry took a shaky breath, "Lily, her name was Lily Potter nee Evans, she had red hair and green eyes like mine."

"Hmmm…" Harry watched as Sherlock closed his eyes and fell silent.

"What's he doing?" he quietly asked John who had moved from his place kneeling on the floor to a nearby armchair.

"He went into his mind palace to look for any reference of you mother." When Harry continued to look at the Doctor in confusion the blond continued "it's sort of like an imaginary landscape in the form of a palace that Sherlock organizes things in such a way he won't forget anything he stores there, it's well it's complicated."

"Right, actually I think I might understand." Harry said it seemed similar to the way Harry categorizes the emotions he gets from people, though he uses colors instead of a palace.

John raised an eyebrow in a silent inquiry but just as Harry went to further explain Sherlock came out if his trance.

"Nothing, there is nothing about any Lily Evens, Potter or otherwise, and I cannot remember ever sleeping with a woman with red hair and green eyes!" the man's frustration was clear, and Harry had a horrible thought; what if his mother had obliviated Sherlock after the fact.

Just as Harry was going to suggest Sherlock could have had his memory erased, voice interrupted.

"If you will cease babbling and attempts at theorizing, I may be able to shed some light on the subject."

Harry jumped at the sound of his new Uncles voice, and he noticed that John and Sherlock seemed to startle as well, apparently everyone had forgotten Mycroft was in the room.

"What could you possibly have to add to this Mycroft? Do you have recordings of all of my sexual liaisons?"

"Hardly brother mine, but I did do some digging and found this, and let me assure you Harrison, it shows that you are not a bastard or the result of an scandalous affair." The man said opening the file before him.

"Does the name Hope Fertility Center sound at all familiar brother mine?"

"Should it?" the detective replied.

"Yes Sherlock it should," Mycroft replied frustrated. "Apparently nearly fifteen years ago you went to the Fertility Center and they, according to their records, gave you 70 pounds for your genetic material. A few months later, a young couple came to the clinic for fertility help, their names were James and Lily Potter.

Apparently James Potter was infertile and the couple wanted a child. For unknown reasons, the couple picked your sperm and after confirming they were pregnant, put a retainer on the remainder of your sperm; apparently they wanted more children." Mycroft said the look on his face clearly showing his distaste at the idea. "However they never came to collect the rest of the deposited and it was disposed of once it had for lack of better word, expired."

"Hmm, nope still don't remember, must have deleted it!" Sherlock said cheerfully.

Silently Harry stood and walked to the window; he was feeling overwhelmed, confined and being close to the window helped. He stared contemplating at the street below as he thought about what he had learned.

Harry supposed he should have been feeling happy, after all mother hadn't cheated on his … on James, but to find out that the man that was his father hadn't even been around when he was created, couldn't even remember donating his sperm, it was too much, and Harry didn't know what to think or feel. Would Sherlock even want him? It didn't sound like the man had thought about the kids that could have resulted from his donation, and while he had shown him some kindness, it was clear the detective had never thought about having kids.

From behind him he heard John ask exasperatedly, even frustratedly ask Sherlock how he could "just delete something like donating sperm?" and Sherlock's response of "it hadn't been at important at the time," and he "had more important things to remember, and deleted trivial data."

Harry's heart sank as he heard his father's words he knew finding his Dad had been too good to be true. He vaguely heard John loudly proclaim that Sherlock was an idiot, but he somehow missed the footsteps that had been headed his way, and thus acted defensively and instinctually when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He felt his magic lash out at the owner of the hand, but was helpless to pull it back as the pent up stress and emotion of the last few weeks and especially of the last few hours found a way to escape. As Harry sank to the floor, he could hear someone calling him telling him to stop, that it was okay, but he couldn't pull it back, his fear that this incident would cause John and Sherlock to finally realize what a screw up he was, only fueling the magical outburst.

He could feel his magic burning in his veins reaching out for something but just as he began to fear that he would be burned alive by his own magic, he felt two thin but strong arms wrap around him, supporting him and to his surprise calming his magic as the arms owners personal if weak magical signature reached out to his.

Needing something to keep him grounded, Harry reached out and latched on the person that made him feel safe, and he couldn't fight the wave of exhaustion that was overcoming him. Harry tightened his grip on the fabric beneath his hands, and he sank into sleep to a rich baritone that rumbled "Hush Harry, everything will be alright, sleep, we will talk in the morning." and a hand tenderly and repeatedly stroked the hair from his forehead.

HPWHJWHSHMH

Sherlock had been halfheartedly listening too, and arguing with, John while the rest of his vast amount of brain power had been devoted to everything and anything that had to do with the teenager currently standing by his window, his son. Never had the thought of having a child ever crossed his mind, and if he _had_ ever imagined having a child, it would not have been the abused waif in front of him.

Despite the unexpectedness of the situation however, Sherlock found he was not unwilling to take in and look after the boy. Sherlock had to admit he found his son rather interesting. It was clear that the teen was intelligent, observant, and Sherlock was fairly certain his son had inherited the dormant magical gene that had not been seen in a Holmes member in hundreds of years. This fact was confirmed when his idiot brother startled the child and ended up thrown backwards, crashing spectacularly into the kitchen table.

"Well done Mycroft." Sherlock said as he watched John rush over to assess his brother who was slowly sitting up amongst the rubble and broken glass.

"Not helping Sherlock," John said from the floor, "go check on Harry Sherlock, make sure he understand that we still don't think he is a freak, make sure he is oaky."

Sherlock glanced over at the teen and saw the objects in the room were still shaking dangerously, and that the boy was glowing slightly as his magic ran unchecked. "John I think that emotions and reassurances are more your area then mine." He said slightly panicked at the thought of trying to calm down an emotional child.

"Sherlock I'm a little busy at the moment and he is your son, go!"

"Fine, fine," He said as he made his way over to his son.

"Harry…Harry you're fine, you can stop, relax everything is okay." He said trying to get through to the teen. AS he approached however it was clear that would not be getting through to the child as he could hear the teen whimpering as if in pain, and he could hear him muttering sorry, freak, murderer and don't hate me.

Sherlock had no idea what Harry was talking about and frankly he didn't care as he rushed to his son's side. For some reason unknown to Sherlock, it hurt him to see the child in pain, and some part of him wanted to do anything he could to make the suffering stop. As his son collapsed to the floor Sherlock reached out and cautiously wrapped the boy in his arms. The minute his arms surrounded Harry, the boy stopped his thrashing and muttering and Sherlock felt a wave of warmth flood his veins.

As he looked down at the child that had attached himself like a limpet to his chest and was quickly falling asleep in his lap, Sherlock knew there was no way he would be letting the child go.

"Ehmm," teen mumbled growing restless.

Sherlock couldn't resist the impulse to brush away the messy locks of black hair that covered the teen's forehead as he gently whispered "Hush Harry, everything will be alright, sleep, we will talk in the morning."

"Sherlock," said John quietly having just comeback form escorting Mycroft to his waiting vehicle "his room is my old room, take him up and come back so we can turn in for the night Mycroft will be back first thing in the morning we have a bit more to discuss."

Sherlock nodded before scooping up his son and headed towards the door leading up stairs. Before going through however, Sherlock turned back to John.

"John,"

"Yes?"

"I am sorry for the pain I caused you the last three years, I got back to you as soon as I could, but Moriarty's web took longer to demolish than I hoped and I couldn't risk yours, Mycroft or Greg's life."

John sighed, "I know Sherlock, I know, just as I know we will have to talk about this at some point, but right now Harry needs us to put him first, he was abused Sherlock and he is hiding more pain than we know."

"I do realize this John, and we will be there for Harry and ensure that the people responsible for my son's pain are taken care of, but I want you to know that… well that I…"

"I know Sherlock, I love you too. Now take Harry up to his bed and then come back to ours." John said with a warm smile.

Sherlock climbed the stairs careful not to jostle the teen in his arms and upon entering Harry's room laid him gently down, making sure his head was on the pillow and that the blankets were tucked in around him. Realizing he had just tucked in his son Sherlock panicked slightly at the sheer normalcy of such an act and quietly raced out of the room back to John and hopefully the first restful sleep he would have since leaving him three years ago.

HPWHJWHSHMH

In a castle far away an intricate instrument sounded a shrill alarm alerting an old man with a long beard and half moon spectacles to underaged magic.

"We've found him, we've found him, but what is he doing in central London?" though it truly didn't matter to the old man why the boy was there.

He had found Harry and at first light he and a few of the Order would be going to retrieve their wayward savior, after all the teen had just witnessed a classmate die and managed to singlehandedly defeat the Dark Lord a few weeks ago. Surly he needed to be amongst friends and his godfather during this trying time, not to mention coming back for school on September first.

**A/N:** Thank you guys for all of the support, reviews, favorites and follows you are wonderful readers! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; we got to see a little bit of Harry-Sherlock interaction, and a little Sherlock-John as well as several tidbits for further plot development! Though I do apologize for the OoC Sherlock he was a little emotional this chapter.

Anyway I hope you like the sperm donation twist, I was going to have Sherlock and Lily have an affair but I didn't want to ruin Lily's reputation and I had never read a fic with this twist. Also I have taken rather large liberties with the process of sperm donation, so do not take any of this chapter as medical fact.

Thanks again for reading, until next time!

Godiva9


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: T**

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Chapter 7

Harry woke slowly, reveling in the warmth the blankets around him and the softness of the bed beneath him. After years of sleeping on a hard cot with a scrap of cloth that was barely passable as a towel let alone a blanket, the comfort of a good bed and comforter was something he would never take for granted.

Relaxing back into his cocoon of warmth, Harry was on the cusp of sleep when he remembered what happened last night, and he shot up in panic his heart pounding in his chest. He had flung his uncle across the room and he broke down in front of everyone.

"Oh Merlin there is no way they will want me now!" Harry thought fearfully. Why did he always have to ruin the few good things that happened to him, and what was he going to do when they kicked him out? There was no way he was going back to the Dursley's and he wasn't sure he wanted to go back to Hogwarts either.

Harry sighed and vigorously rubbed his face; he could hear movement downstairs and judging by lovely aromas wafting up the stairs, at least some of the noise was being made by John. Harry sighed again before heaving himself up and out of bed; it was time to face the music.

HPWHJWHSHMH

Harry stood nervously in doorway watching as John bustled around the kitchen and Sherlock delicately squeezed a few drops of something onto a slide before slipping it under a microscope. There was a calm peace surrounding the two and Harry was loathe to disturb it. He was considering just going back upstairs when the choice was taken out of his hands.

"You know I hear it is impolite to loiter in doorways young Harry, you may as well come in and get settled. I am sure John will have breakfast ready to shove down our esophagi soon enough." Sherlock said without ever looking up from his slide.

"Good morning Harry." said John as he placed a plate of eggs next to one full of toast on the table. "Alright you two time to eat."

"But John I just ate yesterday and I am at a critical point in my experiment." Harry heard Sherlock whine as he went to sit, he didn't want to push his luck this morning.

"Sherlock I am not arguing with you, you need to eat, your experiment can wait, and I believe that we needed to talk to Harry this morning." John said firmly.

Harry stared at plate and rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his trousers and tried to breath past the knot that seemed to have formed in chest. This was it, they were going to say he had to leave.

John must have convinced Sherlock to come eat because the next time he looked up both men were seated with him at the table and toast with eggs had been placed on his plate. Why were they drawing this out, couldn't they just kick him out already?

"So Harry Sherlock and I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night." John started and Harry couldn't help but interrupt in panic.

"I am so sorry I tried to pull it back but I couldn't; is Mycroft alright? Please don't make me leave." he said rapidly.

John sighed "Harry we are not going to kick you out for what happened last night, if we kicked someone out every time the flat got a bit messy or some explosion knocked people around Sherlock would have been out a long time ago." he teased. "As for Mycroft, he is fine. He may have bruise or two to his ego but he is otherwise unharmed." John said with a smirk.

"I would also like to point out that you are not in fact a freak; accidental magic happens to all magical children and while I must admit you are a bit old for it, it is widely known that you are a powerful individual and thus will have more magical outbursts. We will not make leave due to normal magical development" Sherlock stated matter of factly.

Harry looked a Sherlock with wide eyes, how did the man, a Muggle, know so much about magic? And they really wanted him to stay?

"You really want me to stay even though I could have hurt Mycroft?"

"Yes Harry, I am your guardian and Sherlock is your father, we want you here and you will always have a home with us no matter what."

Harry could hear the love and truth in the mans voice and he could see it in his aura. For a while now, Harry had been able to 'see' the intense emotions of others and right now he could see the light pink of love and blue spirals of truth that twirled around John. The man truly meant what he said; if only Harry could believe it would last.

"How do you know so much about magic?" Harry asked turning to Sherlock, both curious about the answer and wanting to change the subject.

Sherlock look him over with a knowing eye but Harry was glad when he let it go.

"The Holmes line was once one of the more powerful families in the Wizarding world, however for reasons unknown our line began to produce squibs and has produced nothing but non-magicals for many generations. We do however insure that our children have a basic understanding of magic should it someday return to our line. It seems that you have finally broken our magical stagnation." Sherlock said a small smirk flicking across his features.

"Yes indeed, it seems that magic has finally been restored to the Holmes line and now we must decide how to handle it and what we are to do about your situation amongst the wizards nephew."

"Ah, Mycroft here to grace us with your presence early this morning I see." snarked Sherlock.

"Good morning Mycroft," John said pleasantly, "we were just about to eat breakfast, shall I fix you a plate?"

Mycroft grimaced "No thank you John I am afraid this is rather urgent and should be taken care of sooner rather than later."

"Mycroft it can be handled after breakfast either sit at the table or make yourself comfortable in the sitting room, but the rest of us need to eat." John said firmly and much to the amusement of both Harry, and Sherlock if his smile was anything to go by, Mycroft sat down at the table taking the seat directly across from Harry.

Breakfast was a quite affair with the sound of cutlery against plates the only sound for the first few minutes. The silence certainly wasn't the most awkward Harry had ever sat through, that honor belonged to one of the few times he was forced to sit a meal with the Dursleys, but neither was it the most comfortable. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with anyone still embarrassed about is overreaction last night. He could have seriously hurt Mycroft when he threw him across the room, and the man hadn't done anything but place a hand on his shoulder!

Having finished eating all he could, which was still only about half of the plate, Harry took a breath and looked directly at Mycroft.

"I am sorry about last night sir." Harry said in a rush. "I overreacted and I am so sorry, I didn't mean to it won't happen again." he hoped that the man who seemed to expect perfection would forgive him.

Mycroft placed down his fork and surveyed him, and Harry tried not to squirm under the scrutiny.

"First Harry as I am your uncle and we are not currently amongst a troubling of goldfish, you may call me Mycroft, though I do appreciate the respect, sir is just a bit stuffy for family. Secondly, while I accept your apology, it is unnecessary. I could clearly see that you were not focused on your surroundings and likely trapped in a foul memory, and did not think before I attempted to rouse you; If I had, I would not have become intimately acquainted with the furniture that passes in this house as the dining table. The fault lies with me nephew mine, and when your magic acts up again, and I guarantee that it will due to your magical strength, we will all understand and will not punish or condemn you for something that is beyond your control."

Harry gaped wide eyed at his uncle, a feeling of warmth building in his chest. The man meant every word he said his aura flickering with red passion and blue truth. Harry felt the his eyes burning with unshed tears, these people really did care about him.

"Thank you si-Mycroft." Harry choked out quietly past the lump of emotion in his throat.

"Right well now that we have all had our breakfast and cleared the air after last night's misunderstanding can we please get to our discussion; I do have another matters to attend to this morning." his uncle Mycroft said impatiently.

"Oh do relax Mycroft, can't you just enjoy the time with family, after all we did just discover you are an Uncle." Sherlock sniped back and just like that the tense, emotional atmosphere disappeared.

Harry couldn't help but smile, hiding the grin behind his tea cup. To anyone else it might seem as if the brothers had a relationship filled with harsh words, resentful attitudes and sarcastic exchanges, but Harry could literally see how the brothers snappy words hid the love and affection they held for each other. The light pink and purple signifying love and nostalgia all wrapped up in a dark blue bubble of knowledge and power that swirled around the brothers. In a way it was both cute and sad.

"Sherlock," Mycroft growled clearly perturbed. "You know I hate it when I don't know the facts and I have heard from a very reliable source if we want to get to know each other we have to talk."

"Oh very well Mycroft don't get you knickers in a knot." Sherlock said before turning his green-silver eyes towards Harry.

"So Harry, John tells me that the two of you have not spoken much about your life with your mothers relatives nor about your school career. I will assume you avoided the latter because of the statute of secrecy which I do believe went out the window last night, and the former was avoided as you did not want to speak of your abuse. However if John and I are to provide you with the home environment and family you deserve, it is only logical that we know about your past and your adventures, which if Mycroft's minions are correct, and they almost always are, have been numerous and dangerous."

"What mister eloquence means is that we want to be able to help you and care for you to the best of our abilities and to do that we need to know what you have been through." said John, his normal calm and healing aqua color, laced with yellow humor and pink love.

"I know it is hard to talk about," John said his voice full of understanding, " but it really does help. Sherlock forced me to tell him about my experiences in the war shortly after he healed me of my limp. I didn't want to, but it really helped and now Sherlock under stands my nightmares and flashbacks better, and he can help me deal with them. We want to be able to do this for you as well, but I order to do that we have to know how to help." He finished his sincerity leaking through every word.

Harry believed him, he really but his experience at the Dursley's was not something he wanted to talk about and somehow he did not think that the new adults in his life would appreciate some of the things he got up to at school. On the other hand he really wanted to make his life with Sherlock, John, and even Mycroft work; but how was he supposed to open up to them and where was he supposed to start?

HPWHJWHSHMH

John watched as his ward seemed to shrink in on himself and wring his hand anxiously and fought back a sigh. They had been doing so well, Harry was becoming more confidant and self-assured but last night's incident had set them back; it was his first days of anxious energy all over again.

John scooted his chair closer to Harry and slowly reached out to grasp the boys restless hands, making sure Harry saw his movements the entire time.

"Harry I know your nervous, but nothing you say will change the way we feel about you, nothing you have done will make us toss you out on the streets, alright?" he said softly giving the teens hands a comforting squeeze.

The teen nodded and looked up nibbling his bottom lip "I- I don't know where to start."

"Why don't you start with your first year at Hogwarts." Sherlock suggested leaning forward slightly "It should be most interesting."

John gave Sherlock a warm smile. While the average bystander might just see a man hampering for new knowledge, John understood that Sherlock was trying to make Harry feel comfortable by starting off with the easier less painful subject, saving the abuse the boy suffered for later when Harry would be more at ease.

"Right, I guess that would make sense. Okay well so on my eleventh birthday I found out I was a wizard." the teen began.

For the next forty five minutes the adults listen in various states of amazement, shock, disgust, fear and elation, as they listened to stories of possessed teachers, rescued stones, giant venomous snakes, and killer diaries. The three heard tales of quidditch games, dark creatures that could suck out your soul, werewolves, humans who could change into animals and a killer escaped convict that turned out to be innocent and the boy's godfather. When they got to Harry's fourth year however, the teen hesitated a haunted look settling on his young face.

"What happened in your fourth year Harry?" John prompted gently.

HPWHJWHSHMH

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath preparing himself for the horror that was his fourth year.

"Well my fourth year started out pretty normal all things considered. Classes were good, even Defense was excellent! We learned lots though Professor Moody turned out to be one of Voldemort's followers in disguise. Everything was going great until we found out there was going to be a tournament held at the school."

Harry then went on to explained the details of tournament and how his name had been pulled from the goblet and how the school and his best friend turned against him. He told them about the first two tasks and how he got through the maze in the third task.

"Cedric and I got to the cup at the same time. We fought over who should take the cup, he thought I should take it and I thought he should take it. Eventually I suggested that we take it together, we could share the victory and Hogwarts would win; I should have just taken it alone." Harry said despondently his breath hitching as fear, panic and guilt started to build in his chest.

Harry felt a warm hand on his good shoulder and looked to find John watching him with concern. "What happened next Harry?"

"When we touched the cup, we realized it was portkey, a magical form of transportation, and it took us to a graveyard. Cedric thought it was part of the task, but I knew it wasn't. My scar started burning like it always did when Voldemort was close and I knew it was a trap. I tried to warn Cedric but a man holding a bundle appeared and a voice I knew was Voldemort's told him to 'kill the spare' and he did, he used the killing cures and he killed Cedric!" Harry cried out, tears spilling down his face and his magic charging the air around them.

Another hand found its way to Harry's back before it carful wound around him, the palm of the hand settling above his heart before pulling him until he was pressed firmly against a skinny side that Harry knew belonged to Sherlock. Unable to help himself, Harry latched on to the offered support and he felt his magic and breathing calm as a nimble long fingered hand carded through his hair.

For several minutes silence surrounded the group and Harry couldn't help but snuggle further into Sherlock's embrace.

"Are you ready to continue Harry?" Sherlock asked softly.

Harry sat up a little straighter, but made no move to leave Sherlock's embrace and Harry was relieved that the man didn't seem to mind. If he had to finish this story, he wanted to stay by his dad's side.

"Yes I can finish." he mumbled. "Af-After Cedric, the man who turned out to be Peter Pettigrew, grabbed me an pulled me over to a headstone. He tied me up and summoned a cauldron, he mixed up a bunch of ingredients and then picked up the bundle he had earlier. I thought it was a baby at first but then I saw it's face and I realized it was Voldemort. He was all ugly, wrinkled and pink, but his eyes were still blood red. Peter put Voldemort in the caldron, and turned around, he waved his wand and this dust came up from under the headstone I was tied to. He said it was the bone of the father unknowingly taken, and he added to the mixture. It smoked and sparked and I remember whishing that something had gone wrong, but then Peter turned to me and pulled out a dagger. He-He sliced open my arm and added my blood to the caldron. He said that the blood of an enemy forcibly taken would resurrect the foe. Then he cut off his own hand and put it in the caldron." said Harry his voice shaky.

"Do you need to take a break Harry?" he heard John ask as he felt the doctor move to his other side. Sandwiched between the two Harry shook his head. He needed to continue, he had to get this out.

"The cauldron exploded and the Voldemort was rising out of the smoke. He summoned his followers, his Death Eaters and he untied me; he said we were going to duel. He forced me to bow to him, he used some spell and my spine just bent over, and he hit me with the cruciatus curse, it hurt so much, it felt like I was on fire and I tried not to scream. Eventually he let up and I ran for cover hiding behind one of the headstones. I knew I was going to die what chance did I have against him? But then he started taunting me telling me that I was a coward, and how my Dad had at least died with dignity. I got angry bur realized that he was right; if I was going to die, I was not going to go down hiding and I was going to do my damndest to take him with me." Harry said passionately.

Sherlock and John shared a small proud smile before focusing back on the teen snuggled between them.

"I walked out from behind the headstone, and started throwing any cures or hex I could think of; I wanted him to die, but I wasn't sure if I could cast the killing curse and it is illegal to use it. I dodged the spells he sent my way but I was getting tired and dizzy from the blood loss, I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. I was desperate and nothing I did was working tried to summon his wand but it must have had an anti summoning charm, I tried to disarm him, and I threw every spell I knew but it wasn't working. He got closer, one of his spells knocked me to the ground and before I knew it, he had me pinned me down. He was leaning over me, telling me how I fought valiantly, but now it was time to die. He was so close I could see the pulse in his neck, and that when I got an idea. There is a severing charm called Diffindo, we use it to cut and trim the plants in Herbology but I knew it could cut skin so I-I used it to slit Voldemort's throat. He was so surprised, he didn't have time to do anything he just bled out and died. The Death Eaters didn't move at first, but then they started coming at me. I shoved Voldemort's body off me and ran for the cup and Cedric's body. I grabbed Cedric's arm and summoned the cup to me, and then I was back at Hogwarts, and Voldemort was dead." Harry finished feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from him and best of all, the arms around him had not left.

"My God Harry, no wonder you have nightmares!" John exclaimed his arm tightening around him a bit more. "I am so glad you are alright, and none of that was your fault do hear me? None of it!"

"How is it not my fault John? I got Cedric killed and I murdered Voldemort! _I_ wanted him dead and _I_ cut his throat, how that not my fault?!" Harry shouted angrily.

Harry started slightly when a hand slipped under his chin and forced him to turn his head and he found himself looking into a pair of brilliant blues eyes.

"Harry it is true that you killed Voldemort, you even meant to cause his demise but you did it because you had no other choice, it was either him or you, it was self defense plain and simple and I for one am glad it was him and not you. I am finding that while I never planned to procreate I find myself intrigued if not pleased by the fact that you are my son, and I swear that John and I will do whatever we can to care for and protect you." Sherlock said seriously before lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Oooo maybe we can even solve a few cases together it can be a family business! John can you imagine the looks on Donovan, Anderson and Lestrade's faces when they find out Harry is my son?"

"Really Sherlock, and you were doing so well." said John with found exasperation and Harry couldn't help but let out a relived chuckle at his dad's silliness. However the family happiness was brought to a abrupt stop when they heard a sudden exclamation.

"What the Hell are you talking about your son?! Get away from my godson, now!

They all looked to the door and found a skinny tattooed man with shoulder length black hair stood in the doorway his wand at the ready.

**A/N: ** Oh my gosh I am so incredibly sorry for the long wait for this update; my final semester of college was busier than I had anticipated! I must also admit I had a little bit of writers block and another story plot that took over my head for a while. That being said **I WOULD LIKE YOUR OPINION** would you guys rather the bad guy of the story to be Magical or Muggle? with the plot I have planed it could go either way but I am not sure which to do and would like your vote. The next chapter will have Dumbledore and a few order members in it as well as some more family bonding time!

I just want to reassure everyone that while updates may be slow I will not abandon this story! : ) Thank you so much for all of the follows, favorites and reviews, I really truly appreciate them! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Thanks for reading,

Godiva9

P.S. I want to say thank you to the Guest Reviewer Millie for your support and kind words! I had similar thoughts about the sperm donation and Sherlock's habits around that time, I am glad you enjoyed it! : )


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: T**

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Previously: _"Really Sherlock, and you were doing so well." said John with found exasperation and Harry couldn't help but let out a relived chuckle at his dad's silliness. However the family happiness was brought to a abrupt stop when they heard a sudden exclamation. _

_"What the Hell are you talking about your son?! Get away from my godson, now! _

_They all looked to the door and found a skinny tattooed man with shoulder length black hair stood in the doorway his wand at the ready._

Chapter 8

"Sirius!" Harry shouted from behind John who had placed himself in front of both Harry and Sherlock as soon as the door had burst open.

"Harry!" yelled Sirius taking a step forward, brandishing his wand threateningly.

"Not a step further." John warned his voice hard and cold. He was in full Captain mode and Harry could see the man hand inching towards his back, where he knew John had his Browning nestled in his waistband.

"What?! Who the Bloody Hell are you to tell me not to come closer to my godson?! And Harry what in the name of Merlin are you doing in the middle of London with two strange and possibly deranged men, when you are supposed to be behind the Blood Wards?!" Sirius said screaming by the end.

Harry stood frozen, his muscle clinched as he braced for a blow, his godfathers yelling and anger triggering his long ingrained response to an adults rage.

He may have remained that way or spiraled into a full blown flashback if not for the cool hand that gently landed on his good shoulder and squeezed comfortingly before removing itself once more. The gentle, fleeting touch, was enough to remind Harry that he was not at the Dursley's, and Harry threw a quick grateful smile a Sherlock before focusing back on his angry godfather, and started slightly when he realized the man was joined by three other people.

Harry swallowed nervously before deciding it would be best to make introductions before somebody started shooting, be it hexes or bullets.

"Sirius, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, I'd like you to meet Doctor John Watson-Holmes, my new legal guardian, my uncle Mycroft Holmes the British Government, and Consulting Detective Sherlock Watson-Holmes...my biological father. Everyone, this is Sirius Black, my godfather, and two of Hogwarts teachers Professors Snape and McGonagall as well as Headmaster Dumbledore."

Silence permeated the flat for several seconds and while Harry noticed John relax slightly, his aura alternated between aqua and yellow-orange, showing he was feeling both protectful and cautious. He was a man ready to act defend his family at the slightest provocation. Sirius in the other hand was radiating concern, confusion and fear, his aura a sickly yellow-green, with flashes of dark red.

"Harry, that's, that's just not possible. I don't know what they've told you or what they've done to you but it's not true. James and Lily were your parents, just, just come over here with me and we will figure out what spell or potion they've got you on." His tone was soft and slow. Harry imagined it was the same way one would talk to a scared or injured animal that might lash out.

"Sirius," Harry began just a cautiously as his godfather, "I'm not on any potions, spells, charms or enchantments; everything I have told you is true, Sherlock is my father."

"Harry there is no way you could possibly be this man's child! Lily and James were so happy together, there is no way she would have cheated on James; and you look just like him Harry, just like your father." Sirius said desperation shining in his eyes his hand extended as if he wanted to grab Harry and run.

"Wrong." Sherlock announced, sounding bored.

"Sherlock," Harry heard John hiss chastisingly, and Harry couldn't help but smile at the familiar scolding.

"Wrong!" Sirius shouted, snapping Harry out of his brief moment of amusement "What do you mean wrong! I know my friends and I knew my friends and I know my godson! Who are you to say what I know is wrong!" Sirius shouted, and Harry couldn't help but feel the need to shrink in on himself, to make himself as small a target as possible but he relaxed when John reached back, never taking his eyes off the people in front of him, and softly squeezed his hand.

Harry could feel Sherlock shifting agitatedly behind him and a quick glance was enough for Harry to note the knowing and mischievous gleam in Sherlock's eye, and knew that his godfather was about to be treated to one of his father's epic deduction and information sharing sessions.

"I say you are wrong as it is quite clear that while there is physical resemblance between Harry and James Potter, something that was likely done intentionally by the Potters so no one would suspect the child was not fully biologically theirs, the resemblance is superficial at best. It is clear to any imbecile that Harry's bone structure is far too lithe to belong to either James or Lily. While it's true James did have a faintly aristocratic look, his face was distinctly boyish and, in combination with Lily' round facial structure, any child of theirs would be doomed to have a look that was soft, rounded, and perpetually youthful, rather than the sharp aristocratic features that Harry possesses. Furthermore while James Potter had dark brown hair that stood up at all angles, likely due to an unlucky genetic combination of strait, thick hair and multiple counterclockwise parietal hair whorls, Harry has black hair which is obviously more wavy than messy. Taking all of this into account, we can then conclude that Harry cannot be James Potter's son biologically speaking, as too many of his physical features would be impossible to create using a combination of James and Lily's traits. You idiots only saw a resemblance to James because it is what you expected." Sherlock concluded clearly quite pleased with himself.

Sirius glanced back and forth between Sherlock and Harry intensely and it was all Harry could do not to squirm under the close scrutiny.

"Good Merlin how did I not see this before?" Sirius exclaimed seemingly to himself.

"Oh, it's not entirely your fault Lily and James must have went to extreme lengths to find someone with similar characteristics to their own and, like the vast majority of the ordinary people in the world, you see but you do not observe, not like I do."

"Sherlock, being rude again." John interjected with a sigh, though Harry noticed Sirius did not seem to be focusing on their conversation, but was instead busy pacing rapidly back and forth across the flat muttering to himself under his breath.

"What I don't understand is how this happened, how did end up here in the first place Harry; how did you figure all of this out? And how in the name of Merlin's pants did a Muggle you have never met become your guardian." Sirius said addressing Harry.

"That is a question I am sure we would all like answered Sirius, but I feel a little less shouting and anger would be better suited to resolve this misunderstanding don't you think?" asked the Headmaster in his most grandfatherly voice.

The bearded man surveyed the room before looking directly at Harry who had the strangest feeling of being dissected, as if the man could see everything both inside and outside of him. It was disturbing and uncomfortable to say the least, and he scooted closer to John who casually placed an arm over his shoulders in a manner both claiming and protecting.

"Well Harry my boy, it seems like you have had quite the adventure this summer, though I find myself disappointed that you did not stay within the safety of the blood wards as instructed." Dumbledore said with a disproving stare.

Harry shifted anxiously under the Headmasters censure, unsure of what to say to the man who forced him to return to an abusive home; thankfully he was saved from replying by his Uncle.

"Ah the illustrious Albus Dumbledore finally I did wonder when you would speak up. I must say I had expected you to speak up much sooner."

Dumbledore looked Mycroft over with a keen eye before giving a smile which, Harry noted, did not quite reach his eyes.

"I am afraid you have me at somewhat of a disadvantage, you seem to know me but I do not have the pleasure of knowing you." the Headmaster said with forced politeness.

"Ah of course forgive me, I assumed that someone of your social and political station would be aware of my identity; I am Mycroft Holmes brother of Sherlock, and Uncle to young Harry. I also play a very, distinct, if minor, role in the Muggle British Government." said Mycroft smoothly, and Harry found himself fighting backs chuckle despite the tense situation.

Mycroft had the magnificent talent of being able to offend people in such a way that they could not call him out on it. He was insultingly polite, and Harry hoped he could one day master the talent.

"Oh come now Mycroft don't be modest, we all know you have more than an minor role in the Government. You can stop or start a war with whomever you want, whenever you like and you can make people disappear with a snap of your fingers, all before tea time with the Queen." Sherlock said nonchalantly, and Harry was pleased to see the Headmaster's eyes widen briefly before his kind grandfatherly mask was back in place.

"Well the pleasure is mine I am sure." Dumbledore said as he turned his sharp gaze on Harry.

"Now my boy I need you to tell me how this happened, in detail, so I can ascertain how much damage has been done and what needs to be corrected in order to get you back to where you belong. After all you have people that are worried about you, and the Hogwarts semester will be starting in a few weeks." Headmaster said, looking expectantly at Harry.

Harry knew that he was expected to be excited about returning to his friends and to school, but all he felt was anger; anger at the Wizarding World for making him into their savior, for expecting and allowing him to kill a Dark Lord, only to berate him for not saving Cedric and then ship him off to his Muggle Aunt and Uncle. He was furious that Dumbledore made him stay in a house that was not safe knowing full good and well he was not loved or treated fairly. He was angry, he was hurt and he was not going back.

"Thank you for the offer Headmaster," Harry said coldly, "but I am not returning to the Wizarding World, at least not to stay, and I will not be coming back to Hogwarts in September."

The silence after Harry's statement was deafening.

"My boy I am not sure that is wise...let's not make any hasty decisions we first need to figure out what to do about your current living situation." The headmaster said looking flustered.

Harry felt a wave of frustration and anger come over him at the Headmasters words.

"There is nothing wrong with my living situation sir, at least not anymore." said Harry his voice hard.

"What do you mean 'not anymore' pup?" Sirius asked gently concern showing in his gray eyes.

"Yes Potter what was wrong with your Aunt and Uncle's house not enough hugs and cuddles, did they stop giving you dessert, or did they simply not worship the ground you walk on you miscible spoiled brat." sneered Snape his aura showing sickly yellow of resentment, peppered with spots of red-orange aggression.

Harry felt himself being moved over gently, if quickly, to the left so that he was closer to Sherlock and before he knew it John blurred by him, his aqua aura pulsing bright, with quick flares of deep red and before Harry could blink, John had his potions Professor pined to the wall his arm shoved forcefully into Snape's neck.

"That is enough! You have no right to treat Harry like that; you have no idea what he has gone through, and if I hear one more smarmy remark out of you, and you'll find yourself arse over teakettle out on the sidewalk, do you understand." threatened John his voice cold and low.

After a brief staring contest, John released the Professor and returned to Harry and Sherlock, pulling Harry to him once more.

"I removed Harry from his Aunt and Uncle's care after he came to me at the medical clinic I work at. Needles to say the issues in that house ran deeper than a lack of hugs and cuddles." John said shooting a dark look at Snape.

"Oh my heavens!" Exclaimed McGonagall "Albus I told you they were the worst sort of Muggle! You should not have left the boy there!"

"The Dursley's hurt you didn't they" stated Sirius. "That why you left and went to the clinic. But I still don't understand how you managed to find out that James isn't your father or how you ended up here."

Harry sighed he would have to start from the beginning.

"When I went to the clinic I went looking for John, Sirius. I knew he worked there and I knew that he had known Sherlock who at the time everyone thought was dead."

Exclamations and shouts of 'what' erupted from the Hogwarts professors and Harry exhaled in exasperation.

"Listen it really doesn't matter all you need to know is that there was a ...misunderstanding and everyone thought Sherlock was dead. I knew that Sherlock was my biological father because of the summer assignment Snape gave us for Potions, we had to use the Lineage Ligno potion to create our family tree. When I saw the results I was confused and hurt; I knew the potion wasn't wrong, but with everything I had heard about James and Lily, how they were so in love, I couldn't imagine why mum would cheat on dad. During the few times I snuck way from the Dursleys I went to the library and looked up Sherlock, he was all over the news, I also found his website and John's blog. Once I had read everything I could find on Sherlock, I did some investigation of his best friend, Doctor Watson. I eventually found out where he worked and I wanted, no I needed, to find out more about Sherlock and who better to tell me about him than his best friend? I went to see John and not only did he heal my shoulder and tell me about his best friend, but he took me in and eventually allowed me to find my father, who then explained that Mum never cheated on James. They had fertility issues, or well James did, and they used a sperm donor to conceive me; Sherlock's sperm. Going to see John was one of the best decisions I have ever made." Harry said passionately locking eyes with Headmaster. He wanted him to see that he was serious about his statement.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore began, "I can see that leaving you with your relatives was perhaps more deleterious than I had hoped, but my by boy surely you miss your friends and you frequently expressed that Hogwarts was your home. Won't you miss it and the world you belong to."

"I am happy here with Sherlock and John, I don't want to leave them. Not for school and especially not for a world whose opinion of me does and about-face as often as the wind changes directions. I will miss my friends but I can write them and I am sure they can visit over breaks." Harry said looking at John for reassurance and permission.

"Of course they can visit, Harry, we can't wait to meet them." said John with a warm smile.

"And your Wizarding education will not be lacking," drawled Mycroft. "We will of course higher the best tutors available or look into other educational establishments if that is your wish Harry."

"Naturally I will take care of your Muggle education and deductive reasoning skills so that you can keep up with the current British education." Said Sherlock his eyes alight.

Harry saw the look and didn't know if he should be worried or excited.

"Really Sherlock, _you_ are going to keep up his education? You who deletes information he thinks is useless; things like the solar system and who the Prime Minister is?"

"But this is different John!" Sherlock exclaimed. "This is Harry, our Harry! He will need to know maths, science off all sorts, history we can skim over a bit, and he obviously already know how to read and write so we can probably forgo that section, and most importantly I can teach him the correct information, unlike the educational establishments. Experiments John! We can do all kinds of experiments!" shouted an elated Sherlock.

Harry smiled warmly at the thought of Sherlock thinking he was important enough to warrant special circumstances, that he was excluded from Sherlock's usual idea that general education was useless and only for the small minded sheep of Britain.

"That sounds fantastic; I would love for you to teach me Sherlock, and a Wizarding tutor sounds brilliant. Thank you Uncle Mycroft." Harry said hoping they could read how touched he was at their gestures.

"Potter-Harry," said McGonagall speaking up for the first time. "Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want; that you wish to live here with these gentlemen and pursue a homeschooled educational career?" she continued, her usual sharp tone missing.

"I am sure Professor." Harry said with no hesitation.

"Very well, then as Deputy Headmistress I Officially withdrawal Harry James Potter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as he is to pursue a homeschooled education." there was a small breeze of magic that caused the scalp of every person in the room to tingle. "It is done." sighed Minerva. "You will receive an official withdrawal document within a few days, and should you ever wish to return, there will always be space for you."

"Thank you so much Professor." said Harry relived. It seemed at least his Head of House was on his side.

"Minerva what have you done?" asked a stunned looking Dumbledore.

"I did what you should have done all those years ago Albus, I put Harry's needs before the needs of the Wizarding World and any other ridiculous agendas you may have. Good day gentlemen, Harry if you ever need anything, you know how to contact me." said McGonagall before sweeping gracefully out the door.

"Well gentlemen now that we have everything settled I do believe that that is your cue to leave." said Sherlock dismissively as he flopped down onto the sofa eyes closed, and his steepled hands to his lips."

"Very well, I can see that you are not going to change your mind. I am most disappointed that you shall not be returning in the Autumn, and I dare say your friends will be beside themselves. As Minerva said however, if you should ever wish to return there will always be space for you." the Headmaster said before following McGonagall out, his blue eyes no longer sparkling and his posture careworn.

"Good riddance Potter, I look forward to never seeing you in my classroom again." sneered Snape as he swept out the door in classic Snape fashion, his robes billowing behind him.

Harry then focused his attention on the last person from the gaggle of wizards; his godfather who was looking at him with a kind of sad understanding.

"You know pup, I always thought that eventually, when I was free, that you would come live with me, but I can see now that even if I was declared a free man tomorrow, you wouldn't leave here." Sirius said and Harry could see moister collecting in his godfathers gray eyes.

"I, I'm sorry Sirius, I love you, I really do, but Sherlock he is my father and John he is my guardian and even though I have only been here for a short time, I can't imagine leaving them. They could be my parents Sirius, I could love them like parents. You will always be my godfather, and I still want to see you, and visit but I want to live here with John and Sherlock." said Harry through a tight throat. He never imagined it would be this hard to tell Sirius that he wanted to stay on Baker Street.

"I understand pup, I really do." Sirius paused to clear his throat. "However, I expect an owl from you at least every other week and I expect to see you every now and again as well, especially around the holidays do you hear me young man."

Harry gave a watery chuckle "Yes sir; but that first letter might be a bit delayed Hedwig, Hedwig died and I haven't gotten a new owl yet."

"Oh Harry, I am so sorry" Sirius said, his face full of sadness and devastation as he pulled Harry in for a hug.

"It's alright, I'll be okay; Hedwig is in a better place and I have John and Sherlock to look after me." Harry said trying to reassure his godfather that he would be okay.

Sirius gave the three men a long hard look "You will all take care of him, and of you don't you will answer to me, do you understand."

"Yes of course, we will look after Harry, he is good kid and we love him." John said puling Harry into his side.

"My nephew will be well looked after there is no need to fret Mr. Black. Now as it is getting rather late and I do have other places to be, I will show you out so that my brother his husband and my nephew can get some peace before the next emergency hits."

"Right then, Goodbye Harry, I will see you soon."

"Absolutely." Harry replied with a wave watching until his godfather was out of sight.

"Well that was a lovely mix of dull, with a hint of boring and just a dash of excitement." said Sherlock as he suddenly popped up from the sofa.

"Sherlock I am not sure what that was, but boring and dull are not the words I would use to describe it." John said exasperatedly.

"Oh please it would have barely rated a seven on my case meter and that is only because of the magical and Harry properties it had. Now that the dullards are gone let's play a game." said Sherlock enthusiastically.

John shook his head in exasperation before giving in. "Fine, but we are not playing Cludo."

"What, but of course we are John it will be great practice for Harry and give me a feel for his deductive instincts."

"No, No we are not Sherlock." John said firmly.

Harry looked between the two confusedly he had seen the Dursley's play Cludo once; it looked like fun. That was, it looked like fun before Dudley got angry because he lost and flipped over the game board and the small table it was on.

"What's wrong with Cludo? It sounds like fun." Harry finally asked.

"There is nothing wrong with the game Harry, just John's interpretation of the clues." Sherlock told him.

"Sherlock it is impossible for the victim to have murdered himself!" fussed John.

Harry couldn't help it, he burst out laughing, whether it was the stress from the day, or the lack of sleep, Harry John's comment to be hilarious; and he felt better than he had in a long time, and Harry knew that everything would be alright as long as he had Sherlock and John.

**A/N:** Wow I am so sorry for the incredibly long wait for this chapter, it just did not want to be written, and while I am not 100% satisfied with it, it will be what it will be, I hope it is not too bad. THANKS to everyone who gave their opinion on the bad guy and for everyone that followed, favorited or reviewed you guys rock!

The next chapter will have a bit of a time skip, and we should get to see Harry introduced to the Yarders, and the actiony of the story may start. Also you can find info on the colors I am using for the aura's here www .color-wheel -pro color-meaning. html just take out the spaces.

Thanks again for reading and reviewing it means a lot.

Godiva9


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: T**

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

Chapter 9

It was a bright sunny afternoon that found two men setting on a park bench seemingly enjoying the day.

At first glance the men seemed perfectly ordinary, passerby's barely gave the gentlemen more than a passing glance. One of them a younger man with blue eyes, brown hair and an average build, while the second was a grandfatherly gentleman who's eyes seemed to sparkle with a hidden knowledge and an extraordinarily long beard; in reality however, there was nothing ordinary about these two men which would have been obvious if anyone had stopped to listen to their coversation.

"If you don't mind me asking sir, how is it that a man of your apparent Muggle decent, managed to find and responded to my cautions inquiries for someone for your talents in the Wizarding world?" asked the older man.

The other man laughed merrily. "It is my job to know these things, Albus Dumbledore." the second man said a Irish accent just discernible in his speech.

"I must admit that your adverts caught my attention, after all what would the illustrious leader of the light need with someone like me hmm?"

"I am afraid that I am not quite ready to offer that information yet, after all sir you have yet to introduce yourself, nor told me your skill set." Dumbledore replied with an eyebrow raised expectantly.

"Ah yes I do hope you will forgive the me for not introducing myself, I tend to wait for names until after I have been hired, paranoia is a hazard of the profession you know. As for my skills, I can do anything you need really, make you disappear, make someone else disappear, frame someone, steal something, forgeries, murder, anything you need really. I have the resources and the talent to do it all, as long as you have the financial resources of course."

Dumbledore looked off into the distance, this man seemed so proud of his illicit talents and was definitely qualified for the job he needed done, but was he, the leader of the light really willing to sink so low as to work with a murderer, extortionists and whatever else this man may be to get Harry back?

Yes, yes he was the Wizarding world needed Harry, they needed him to continue to be their light, their beacon of hope. While it was true the boy had fallen out of favor recently due to some nasty allegations about the Diggory boy's death, he could easily clear up the misunderstanding with a copy of Harry's memories and an official declaration from the Ministry stating their authenticity. The only things standing in his way was the boy's new guardian and the child's biological father and once they were out of the way...

"I am quite certain I have the required funds and would like to employ your services; though this cannot be traced back to me, it is of the upmost importance that this not be traced back to me." Dumbledore said imploringly.

The man rolled his eyes "Of course, the people who pay for my services always require discretion, a rather boring lot you people never wanting in on the action, never wanting to get your hands dirty." the man said his voice soft and his eyes alight with malicious anticipation.

"Very well," Dumbledore said as he pulled a leather pouch out from inside his voluminous robes, " I do believe this should cover part of it." he said handing over the pouch. "You shall receive the other half once the deed is done."

"Excellent " the man said after a quick glance at gold inside the pouch. "So, Albus Dumbledore; pillar of all things light and good, what can I do for you?" asked the man as he rubbed his palms together in gleeful anticipation.

Dumbledore took a breath, after this there would be no going back. "I need to regain control of a child who was once in my custody. The child and I had a, shall we say falling out, and he unfortunately managed to gain new legal guardianship, as well as discover and locate a biological father that was previously unknown."

"Ooo, intriguing, the child must have some skills if he was able to escape the great Dumbledore as well as track down a person under the radar. Who is the child? That is, what is his name, age, general description and last known location?" asked the man getting down to business.

"The boy is fourteen, nearly fifteen years old. He is short in stature, skinny but muscular. He has messy black hair, green eyes, has glasses and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead just above his right eyebrow. His name is Harry Potter and his last known location was in central London." said Dumbledore.

"Oh this is good! The Savior of the Wizarding World has gone rouge, and the leader of the light wants him kidnapped and sent back home. This is priceless." laughed the man giddy with delight as his took down the information.

"Now I need the names of the Golden boy's Daddy Dearest and Guardian Angle, and a more specific location than London if you please."

"Of course the guardians name is John Watson, the father is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 211 B Bakers Street."

"WHAT! NO!" shouted the man, springing from the park bench and catching the attention of some of the other park patrons. "No that is not possible!" he said brining his voice down to a harsh whisper. "There is no way that Sherlock Holmes has a son that I don't know about!" the man said viciously his accent coming through strong.

"I assure you it is quite possible, apparently even he did not know until a few weeks ago. I take it you know the man?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Oh yes, we tend to...dance well together. At least we did until his Doctor got involved." the man muttered as he paced franticly back and forth.

Dumbledore looked at the man in confusion, he got the distinct impression that he was missing something, but as long as the man got the job done he didn't care. "Will your association with Mister Holmes impede your ability to do your job?"

"What?" asked the man looking up distractedly as he abruptly stopped his pacing . "No, oh no if anything this will insure that I am personally involved in the situation."

Dumbledore began to feel uneasy; the man had a wicked gleam in his eyes and Dumbledore couldn't help but feel he may have made a deal with the devil. "I don't rightly car what you do with the two gentlemen but Harry is to be handed over to me, or left to return on his own in a mostly unharmed condition with no permanent damage or our deal is off."

"Yes, yes; you will get your Golden Boy back in one piece." the man said exasperatedly.

"Excellent, well then I suppose I shall go, I expect to hear from you soon Mister?" Dumbledore paused hoping to get a name for his associate.

"I should have him in a few weeks, give or take, and the name is Moriarty, James Moriarty."

"Very well Mister Moriarty, I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks." said Dumbledore as he stood up and began walking down one of the parks many paths.

"Oh Albus Dumbledore, I said that I would have him in few weeks not that you would. In fact I think I shall have the whole family and turn it into one big party!" exclaimed Moriarty as he pulled out his phone quickly shooting off several texts setting his plans in motion. Oh yes life was good he thought as a menacing smile spread across his features, Sherlock and company wouldn't know what hit them.

LOLAFOHO

Harry sighed as he studied the Arithmancy problem in front of him, knowing his tutor, Bhaltair MacCance, and older kindly and vastly intelligent Scottish gentleman who vaguely reminded Harry of a combination Professor McGonagall and Remus, would be expecting him to turn it in tomorrow, but he simply could not get his mind to focus on the last problem on the page.

When Sherlock and Mycroft said they would be finding a tutor to continue his magical education, he hadn't imagined that they would have found one so quick, or that they would start immediately, summer or not. He also hadn't expected to be forced to learn all of the subjects including Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. He wasn't really complaining though, Runes was a interesting subject, and Arithmancy was very similar to Muggle maths, something he was quite good at. This last problem however was a trickier one, and Harry's heart wasn't really into solving it as his eyes kept wandering to the clock.

Sherlock and John had been called out by the Yard earlier in the day; there had been a string of suspicious murders lately all with very little evidence left at the scenes and all of the victims were killed the same way, and all had the same distinguishing cercumstances, making everyone believe they were the victims of a serial killer. Harry didn't know anymore than that as, John and Sherlock were carful not to discuss the more gruesome cases in front of him.

Sherlock had however been helping Harry with his observations and deductions, and both Sherlock and Greg had promised that once his skills were fine tuned and he was a little older he, could help them on a few of the tamer cases. Harry really liked the Detective Inspector and couldn't help but smile as he remembered the day he met Lestrade for the first time.

FLASHBACK

Harry was in the process of working on his summer potions assignment, an interesting if involved essay on venoms and there uses in medicinal potions, when the sound of frantic footfalls and the banging opening of the flat door jarred him out of his work. Turing to face the intruder Harry found himself face to face with a stressed out looking middle aged man with graying hair inelegant silver eyes, a protective, masculine aura that was a strange combination of brown and aqua, who was currently looking at Harry with exasperated and slightly fearful expression.

"Oh Bloody Hell! Tell me he didn't, I'll bloody well arrest him, the idiot, and where is John, isn't he supposed to stop things like this from happening?" said the man as he paced back and forth.

Harry watched the man with a mix of confusion and amusement; Harry gathered that this man knew John and Sherlock obviously he knew them pretty well as he let himself into the flat, and it was equally obvious that something about Harry's presences here had upset him. Harry watched the man for a bit longer before deciding it was time to interrupt.

"Um sir, are you alright? Maybe you should sit down. Can I get you some tea or something?"

The man stopped his frantic pacing and faced Harry.

"Right, oaky" the man took a breath and walked closer to Harry, before kneeling so that he was at eye level with him.

"I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm not going to hurt you, your perfectly safe now, but I need you to answer a few questions for me okay?"

Harry's confusion grew, why was the man acting like this? John and Sherlock had told him a lot about the Detective Inspector, but right now Harry was concerned about the man's mental health. In the end Harry decided to play along, at least for a bit, in the hopes he could figure out what was going on.

"Sure, not a problem Detective Inspector."

"Great, first things first what's your name, your age?"

"My Name is Harry Potter, and I'm fifteen sir."

"Excellent," Lestrade said as he wrote down the information in his note book."Alright, now how long have you been here, how did you meet Sherlock and where do you live?"

"I live here at 221 B Baker street sir, with John and Sherlock, I have been here for, what a few months I guess, and I met John at the clinic and I met Sherlock through John. Sir what exactly is going on?" Harry asked his confusion reaching an all time high.

"John is in on this too?" the Inspector asked looking as if he had been slapped.

"In on what Detective?"

"How have they been treating you, do they feed you? They don't, oh God, tell me Sherlock doesn't use you for experiments!"

"What? Why would he do that? I do get to help sometimes, but he doesn't use me _as_ the experiment sir. Seriously what is going on Inspector Detective?

"Could be Stockholm Syndrome if they had him long enough, I can't believe that John would just go along with this." mumbled the Inspector.

Suddenly it all clicked and Harry understood why the Detective was acting so strange, the man thought Sherlock and John had kidnapped him! Harry couldn't stop the laughter that overtook him, he couldn't believe that the Inspector thought he was a kidnap victim!

"Um kid, Harry, are you okay?" the Detective asked looking at him with concern.

"You-you think-Sherlock and- John kidnapped me?" Harry gasped out between fits of laughter.

"Well-"

"Greg, good to see you mate, been waiting long?" asked John as he came in hanging up his coat.

The Detective startled slightly not having heard the man come in.

"Ah brilliant, another case, I needed another case!"

"Sherlock you just finished a case!"

"But John that was thirty minutes ago!"

All of this was so utterly ridiculous that Harry couldn't help but laugh harder, he swore his ribs were going to crack and his stomach muscles were burning.

"Harry, what's so funny?" asked John.

"The- The- He- thinks- kidnapped-me!" Harry spit out through his fit of giggles.

"What? Here, sit up and drink this." John said as he handed Harry a cuppa.

After a moment Harry managed to settle enough to drink without chocking, and he downed the cup of tea.

"Now what on earth is going on in here?"

"The Detective Inspector, he- he thinks that the pair of you have kidnapped me!" said Harry, only a few giggles escaping.

"Greg! You know I would never kidnap a child!" exclaimed John looking offended.

The Detective rubbed that back of his neck nervously "Well I knew you wouldn't normally, but who knows what this one," he gestured at Sherlock "could convince you to do?"

"Oh please Lestrade, there is no way John would ever allow me to kidnap a child for experiments. Besides why would I need to kidnap a child when I have one of my own?"

"What do you mean one of your own?" asked Greg.

"Oh a suppose introductions are in order. Harry, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade Scotland Yard's finest- Detective Inspector this is Harry Potter, soon to be Harry Watson-Holmes, my son and John's ward."

"Your, your son, as in biological..."

"Yes, yes, though John is as much his father as I am, biology isn't everything you know." replied Sherlock off handedly as he examined something under a microscope, turning only when he heard the thud of Greg's body hitting the floor. "The Yard's finest indeed."

END FLASHBACK

John had revived Greg and after some explanations and apologies everything went back to normal, and Harry and the Detective Inspector, Greg- as he insisted Harry call him, became friends of a sort, and the man was someone Harry looked forward to seeing. If only meeting the rest of the Inspector's team had been as pleasant.

FLASHBACK

Harry, Sherlock and John had been out running errands and, at Sherlock's insistence, helping Harry memorize the ins and out's London's streets and alleyways. Harry and Sherlock were having a great deal of fun, while John just went, with it indulging the two and their strange bonding. The fun was interrupted however by a call from the trio's favorite Detective Inspector, asking for Sherlock's help at a crime scene a few blocks from where they were.

Naturally Sherlock agreed to assist and the trio walked the few short blocks to the scene.

"Sherlock, John, Harry." Greg greeted them. "Listen Harry I can't let you in this time you'll have to wait outside the tape."

"It's okay I understand." Harry said as Sherlock and Greg slipped under the Police tape and headed down the alley where Harry assumed the murder took place. John however hesitated.

Harry sighed. "You can go John, I'll be fine waiting right here."

"Are you sure Harry?"

"Yes John, I haven't had a flashback or a panic attack in quite some time and I am surrounded by Police, so no one is likely to snatch me, now go get to Sherlock before he offends all of Scotland Yard or explodes from all of the 'idiots he is forced to put up with.'" said Harry with a smile.

"Well alright then, shout if you need us." John said as he hurried after Sherlock.

Harry leaned against one of the buildings beside the alley and pulled out his mobile scrolling through to find his book app knowing he could be waiting awhile. One of the many things Harry had discovered about himself while staying with John and Sherlock was that he enjoyed reading for fun, if he had nothing else to do. He would never be a bibliophile like Hermione, but he enjoyed a good fantasy or adventure story, and even the occasionally mystery or horror story.

Harry was just getting to the climax of his current story, when someone started shouting.

"Oi you kid, what are you doing, go find somewhere else to loiter this is a crime scene!" the woman shouting and walking Harry's direction was taller than he was but still petite, with shoulder length curly brown hair, darker skin and an attitude you could see a mile away. Her aura was sickly putrid yellow green that made Harry nauseous just looking at it. This must be Sally Donovan. John and Sherlock had warned Harry about this woman and her jealousy and rude comments. Apparently she along with a man named Anderson used to give Sherlock an extremely hard time, and while Anderson had apparently turned over a new leaf, Donovan was as spiteful as ever.

"Boy you've got to go you can't be here, scat." she said rudely as gestured for him to move.

"I'm sorry miss, I'm waiting for someone I was told it was alright to be here." Harry said as politely as he could.

"Right, and who exactly told you that?" she asked clearly not believing his story.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade said I had to wait out here, so here I am, waiting." Harry replied starting to feel annoyed.

"Alright, say I believe you, then who might you be waiting for, 'cause I know all of the people in there and not a one of them in there has kids that look like you and I don't remember you comin' with any of them."

Harry sighed, he just knew this was going to end badly. "I am waiting for John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, I came with them."

Donovan looked surprised at first though her expression quickly transformed to one of suspicion.

"Your here with the Freak?! How did he even get a hold of you? Did he follow you home?"

Harry froze fighting down his instinctual reaction to the word 'freak' he remembered to breath evenly, and focus on the present. Though in hindsight that may not have been the best idea, as he finally registered that the woman had called his Da-Sherlock a freak.

"Sherlock is not freak!" he shouted and a strong breeze whipped through the alley causing Donovan to pull her coat around her in an attempt to block out the cold.

"That man is menace to society and should be locked up before he kills someone!"

Another gust of wind blew through and this time Harry recognized it as his magic acting up, he need to calm down before something bad happened to Donovan.

"Is everything alright over here?" asked an unfamiliar voice just as a familiar hand landed on his shoulder and calmed his magic.

"Well done Harry." Sherlock whispered warmly "no flashback this time."

Louder he addressed Donovan, "Ah Sally nice to see you again, I see you have met my son Harry."

Donovan's mouth fell open and her eyes looked like they were about to bug out of her head.

"Your son, how does someone like you get a son?" she asked clearly horrified.

"The usual way I would presume Sally, now if you don't mind Lestrade wants you." the unknown bearded man said coolly.

"Fine but this is not over." Sally said as she slipped under the police line and stalked down the narrow road.

"Sorry about her," apologized the bearded man.

Harry turned towards the man who was watching him with a polite smile. The man was taller than John but shorter than Sherlock, wore glasses, had reddish hair and beard and a dark blue aura that told of inelegance and seriousness.

"I'm Phillip Anderson, the lead crime scene investigator." said the man holding out his hand.

"Um, I'm Harry, Sherlock and John's s-son." stuttered Harry as he cautiously shook the man's hand.

"Pleased to meet you Harry, and a word of advice, just ignore Sally, when it comes to Sherlock, she is a right pain in the arse. "the man said before walking away.

"Come Harry, let's go."

END FLASHBACK

While Harry and Anderson were not as close and Greg and Harry, the man was surprisingly welcoming and the few times they had to interact were pleasant, though Harry avoided Donovan like the plague.

Checking the clock again, Harry sighed . He was a little worried John and Sherlock hadn't checked in several hours, and the last time they were called out to a crime scene in which the serial killer was a suspect, they were back much sooner.

He knew he was probably being ridiculous, but an uneasy feeling had been growing in the back of his mind, and he couldn't shake the notion that something bad was coming.

Trying to shove the worry to the back of his mind, Harry attempted to focus his attention back on his Arithmancy when a wave of...something crashed through his body. It was icy cold, but left a tingling burn in its wake, the closest thing he could compare it to was when your foot falls asleep and the circulation is suddenly returned, only the sensation enveloped his entire body. The sensation lasted for only a moment or two, but for Harry, it felt like an eternity.

Harry had no idea what had caused the disturbing sensation, but he did know it meant nothing good. Coupled with the nagging feeling of dread he couldn't seem to get rid of, Harry instinctively knew that something was terribly wrong.

Getting up from his seat, Harry franticly searched for his mobile phone, and dialed John's number, as Sherlock hardly ever answered his phone when he was on a case.

"Come on John pick up, pick up." After six rings the phone went voice mail and Harry hung up, and immediately dialed Sherlock's number, the end result was the same.

Trying not to panic, Harry tried both phones again, only to have them go straight to voice mail after the first ring.

Harry was just starting work himself in to a real tizzy when he heard a single set of footsteps headed up the stairs. He let himself hope it was John or Sherlock and prayed to whoever was listening that his family was safe. When the door opened and Greg stepped through covered in dust and grime, Harry felt his anxiety go up another notch; when he saw the man's face, his heart plummeted.

"No, no, no." Harry mumbled franticly his hand out in front of him as if he could ward of the bad news he knew Greg was here to deliver, by keeping the man at a distance.

"Harry,-"

"No, No!" shouted Harry backing away from Greg.

"Harry please listen to me, just listen okay." Greg said his hands raised in a placating gesture as he slowly took a step closer to him.

"No they're not dead, they're not!" Harry shouted trying put more space in between himself and Greg. He felt his magic slipping out of his control and he did not want to hurt Greg. Taking a deep breath he manage to calm enough to bring it back under control.

"No Harry, we don't think they are, please just listen to me for a second, yah? We were working the case when an explosion, a smoke bomb went off. It wasn't enough to hurt anyone, just a bit of damage to the buildings structure, and a Hell of a lot of smoke." Greg said oblivious to Harry's internal struggle.

"A distraction then?" asked Harry flatly, he didn't like where this was going.

"Yah it was but how did you, never mind why am I asking how you know, you Holmes' always know. Anyway once the smoke cleared we did a check to account for everyone, and we found everyone except for,"

"Sherlock and John right."

"I'm sorry Harry, but it looks like they've been kidnapped, we found a note, now we don't know what it means but it is a place to start."

Harry felt numb, he couldn't believe this was happening to him why was it always him.

"What do they want, the kidnapers, did the note have like, I don't know ransom demands? Isn't that how it usually works?" inquired Harry eerily calm. He could feel Greg watching him carefully probably waiting for him to explode.

"There were no demands just a cryptic message." the man replied.

"Can I see it?"

"Harry, I don't know if that's such a good idea, and it's part of an open investigation and.."

"Please Greg, please," begged Harry desperately his calm facade slipping. "I- I need to see it, please I can't let anything happen to them, what if I see something you missed, Sherlock's been teaching me and-"

"Alright, Harry all right." said Greg stopping him mid ramble. The man pulled and evidence bag out of the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to Harry.

"Don't open the bag." the gray-haired man warned.

Harry flashed him a irritated look before focusing on the note inside the bag and what he read made him see red.

The Bumblebee misses his Golden One his sheep who strayed from the flock,

and someone's been keeping secrets naughty, naughty, Sherlock.

So if you want the duo back, if you're in greatest need, you had better hurry up

and find an On Afforested, lead!

Harry felt his magic escaping him in violent tendrils but he could not pull them back. Dumbledore, this was all because of Dumbledore.

The windows in the flat exploded shards flying everywhere, and the furniture in the began to levitate "That Bastard, I'm going to kill him!" Harry shouted his fury palpable in the magic in the air.

Suddenly arms surrounded him pulling him to a warm, soft yet muscular chest, as hands carded through his messy locks. The arms were familiar and caused the touch caused his magic to settle slightly opening his eyes he was greeted to a familiar form.

"He took them Uncle Myc, he took My Dad and Father." Harry whimpered as he collapsed in both magical and emotional exhaustion. His Uncle carefully guided him to the floor and Harry couldn't help but burrow into his uncles embrace.

"I know Harry, I know" the man said softly as he continued to run his fingers soothingly through the teens hair as Harry focused on reigning in his wayward magic. His uncle continued his soothing ministrations for a time, even after Harry had calmed. Eventually however the man broke his silence.

"We shall find them Harry, I promise we'll find them, and those who took them shall pay dearly."

Harry did not respond but he believed him. Harry could hear the steel in his uncles voice and he knew that together they would find those who were holding is dads' and they would make them pay. As for Dumbledore, well Harry would make sure the man got what he deserved. Dumbledore had made a grave mistake when he took those whom Harry held dear, and Harry was going do everything in his power to make the man suffer for it.

**A/N: **This chapter is dedicated to all of the Guest Reviews and any reviewers I have forgotten to or missed responding to! Thanks so much for sticking with me! I apologize for the long wait but my sister just got married a few weeks ago and the past several months have been nothing but wedding drama, wedding preparations, and well my life has been revolving around her wedding and at the end of the day my poor brain was in a state of wedding exhaustion and was not capable of putting words on paper. I have since recovered and hope the chapter was worth the wait! : ) Also I know the note was cheesy but it was the best I could come up with, any guesses as to where Moriarty is holding Sherlock and John? And don't worry Harry is not going to become a crazed killer bent on revenge and out for Dumbledore's blood, he just said that he would make him pay, not that he would kill him.

Thanks again to everyone that had followed, favorited or reviewed, it is much appreciated!

Godiva9


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: T**

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

**Last Time**

**Harry has a magical melt down in front of Greg after finding out that Sherlock and JOhn have been kidnapped.**

_"We shall find them Harry, I promise we'll find them, and those who took them shall pay dearly." _

_Harry did not respond but he believed him. Harry could hear the steel in his uncles voice and he knew that together they would find those who were holding is dads' and they would make them pay. As for Dumbledore, well Harry would make sure the man got what he deserved. Dumbledore had made a grave mistake when he took those whom Harry held dear, and Harry was going do everything in his power to make the man suffer for it._

Chapter 10

Lestrade looked around the devastation in the sitting room of 221b with a sense of shock and awe. Items were strewn about, furniture was upturned and the random bits of paper were now nothing but ash, though he noticed the cryptic ransom letter had somehow escaped a fiery death. Greg didn't know exactly how the devastation had happened but he was almost certain that Sherlock's son had something to do with it.

Looking at the duo still on the floor Greg was having a hard time reconciling that the usually imperturbable Mycroft Holmes, was the same man who was currently sitting on the floor with no thought for his fancy suite, cradling his distraught nephew in his lap. Under other circumstances Greg would have loved to take the Mickey out of the British Government but right now he had questions that needed answers and a missing Doctor and consulting Detective to find.

"Mycroft what in the Hell just happened, is the kid, I dunno, some kind of telepath or something?"

"The or something Inspector Detective," Mycroft said from his place on the floor, "my nephew is a wizard."

Greg looked at Mycroft feeling gobsmacked "What like-"

"Yes the kind with magic and spells and potions Detective." Mycroft said testily. "and I would appreciate it greatly if we could skip the disbelief and predictable, superfluous questions as we currently have bigger issues to deal with." said Mycroft as he gracefully rose from the floor his nephew bundled in his arms. Greg watched as the man carefully placed the teen on the sofa, gently shushing the boy when he became restless. After making sure the teen was settled Mycroft turned back to Lestrade.

"What you just witnessed was an outburst of accidental magic as young wizards sometimes have a difficult time controlling their magic during time of emotional turmoil, and my nephew is both extraordinarily powerful and highly empathic; outburst such as this are not uncommon for Harry, he is much like his father in that regard." said Mycroft with a wistful smile.

"Unfortunately this show of magic is not likely to go unnoticed by those in charge of regulating the Wizarding population and could complicate the situation especially as it was seen by you, someone who is, or should I say was unaware of the Wizarding World." He continued coolly.

"What can I do to help Mycroft, I like the kid, he is good for Sherlock and John, and I would hate to see him get into trouble for this." asked the detective his stance shifting to one that suggested the man was ready for battle.

"What I need you to do now is to leave; go back to work. You were never here, you saw nothing and know nothing. I can convince them that the reading they got was a fluke, or a misinterpretation of my signature as I have clearance to know about magic, something I will have to look into getting you in the future. Right now however I need you to focus on finding my brother and his doctor. My team will have already started on trying to decipher the message, but we can never have too many minds working on the riddle, now dash before the officials show up." Mycroft instructed his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Wait you just want me to leave? You through all of that at me and then just expect me to get back to work like nothing happened?" Lestrade exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes that is exactly what I expect you to do, for Harry's sake if for nothing else; I will answer any questions you have later just leave."

"Right, fine; but after this I expect a decent explanation, and if your team finds anything on Sherlock and John let me know." Greg said as he left closing the door harder than necessary and sighed in frustration, Mycroft could be a real prick.

Mycroft sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in attempt to stave off the headache looming behind his eyes, though it would likely be in vain, especially as he would be forced to deal with the imbeciles from the Ministry of Magic at any moment. Bundling his nephew in his arms, Mycroft pulled him against his chest and carried the lightweight exhausted teen to his room, were he placed him gently in bed before rushing back down stairs. Quickly Mycroft fixed himself a cuppa and settled down in what was usually his brother's armchair, to wait for his guests to arrive.

Sure enough not three minutes after he had settled, Mycroft heard the tell-tale sound of Apparition in the side ally and exactly four and a half seconds later this bell rang announcing their visitors. Mycroft heard a brief muffled conversation before the sound of three individuals on the stairs reached his ears.

"Do come in quietly Minister, and I implore your friends to do the same if you don't mind." he drawled as they reached hearing distance.

Mycroft smirked as the sound of the minister's exasperated sputter came through the door, quickly followed by the man himself and two others he quickly identified as Mafalda Hopkirk from the Misuse of Magic office and Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Mister Holmes you do realize it is customary to let guests knock before allowing them entry." the Minister commented shortly.

"Of course I am aware of such social norms and niceties', I was however more concerned about allowing my nephew to continue resting, he has had quite the trying day. Now what can I do for you gentlemen, it must be important for you to break protocol; it is after all most unorthodox to hold a meeting in my brother's flat when our meetings are usually schedule through Anthia." Mycroft politely scolded.

He knew that the Minister was unaware of his presence in the flat but making such comments served two purposes; one was to simply keep the Minister flustered and off his game therefore giving Mycroft the advantage while it's one job was to aid in the illusion that he was unaware of the reason for the Minister's visit; naturally it worked like a charm.

"I..we... that is to say we had no idea you were here Mister Holmes!" sputtered the red faced Minister."We were simply coming to deal with a case of underage magic in the presence of a Muggle this particular case is repeat offender and requires a visit so we can talk to the delinquent in person. I suppose you are here for a similar reason." the short man said his chest puffed out his confidence returned.

Mycroft gave the man a cold look that only the dark skinned Auror seemed to catch.

"Ahm, With all due respect Minister I do believe that Mister Holmes said that he was worried about us waking his nephew, and if I am not mistaken, the only other person in the flat is Harry Potter."

"I..I what?

"It is true Minister, the only other person here at the moment is my recently discovered nephew, who just happens to be Harry Potter." Mycroft stated nonchalantly.

"How, how is that possible? The boy is a Potter through and through, he was born at Saint Mungo's for Merlin's sake! Surly they would have known if he wasn't a Potter!" exclaimed the Minister looking flustered.

Mycroft raised an exasperated eyebrow and inclined his head in a incredulous manner.

"Surely a man as educated as yourself would know how the creation of a child comes about." intentionally misunderstanding the Minister's statement.

The British Government watched with hidden mirth as Fudge sputtered and flapped about as his face turned an intriguing shade of fuchsia.

"I don't know what you are insinuating Mister Holmes, but of course I know how babies come about! What I don't understand his how the lying, cheating, nuisance that is Harry Potter became your nephew!" the minister shouted gruffly.

Mycroft carefully sat down his saucer and tea cup before rising slowly from the armchair, his eyes stone cold and focused directly on the Minister of Magic.

Taking a measured step forward, Mycroft stood on the verge of invading the imbeciles personal space and when he spoke his voice was that of the Ice Man he was frequently accused of being.

"You listen to me Minister and you will listen well, my nephew is not a liar or a cheat, he in not insane and he is not trying to usurp your reign; he is just a young boy who has seen too much, done, too much and whom has the weight of the world on his shoulders. As for your visit today, I can tell you with all certainty that there was no magic performed in front of a Muggle, only a small magical outburst in the presence of myself, a known squib, after my teenage nephew found out that his fathers' had been kidnapped. Now if that it is all Minister, I have more important things to do than speak with you on non-consequential topics as you slander my nephew."

"Mister Holmes I cannot just ignore Mister Potter's repetitive misbehaviors, and you will address me with more respect, I am after all the Minister for Magic!" fudge bellowed, and in the resulting silence, Mafalda Hopkirk and Auror Shacklebolt wisely stepped away from the Minster eyeing Mycroft Holmes as one would watch a predator ready to pounce.

"The correct form address for my nephew is Mister Watson-Holmes, if you must address him at all, and Minister for your sake, it would be wise if you do not have to in the near future . You Minister have ten seconds to get you and yours out of this flat before you find yourselves escorted out with as much force as is necessary; now turn around and scuttle, you have eight seconds left."

Wide eyed, Minister Fudge glanced about franticly and darted down the steps and out the front door, with Mafalda Hopkirk not far behind. Under other circumstances, Mycroft would have found such a thing highly amusing; unfortunately, today was not a day in which he could indulge in such things, he had a wayward brother and brother-in-law to find.

A deep chuckle alerted him to the fact he was not as alone has he thought, and he spun quickly to face an amused Auror Shacklebolt.

"That man has the backbone of a jellyfish and the brains of a sheep." the dark man said handing Mycroft a card. "This is my card if you need assistance finding Harry's fathers' or if there is ever an emergency you need magical assistance with dial this number and it will contact me directly. Fudge is an idiot to believe what he does about Harry, and while Dumbledore's intentions maybe good, he methods have been somewhat questionable of late."

Mycroft took the card flipping it over in his fingers, "Thank you Auror Shacklebolt , I will keep you in mind should we need magical assistance."

Kingsley nodded, "Look after Harry, he is a good kid but trouble seems to follow him like a Crup pup follows its owner."

"Rest assured, I will look after him to the best of my abilities, now if you don't mind, I do have other pressing matters to attend to."

" Of course, good luck Mister Holmes." Shaklebolt said as he swept out the door.

Slipping the Auror's card into his breast pocket Mycroft picked up the note left by the kidnappers. "Now what have you got to say?"

LLAFOHO

Small time skip

Harry stared at the computer screen in front of him with frustration. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since John and Sherlock had been missing and his only hope of finding them lay in his Uncle's men who were continuously coming up empty handed. It hadn't take Mycroft or Harry long to decipher the clues left in the note, the clues themselves were almost too easy.

The "Bumble Bee" was obviously Dumbledore as his name could be broke down into various parts language meaning bee, the 'dore' was especially telling as it means flying insect that a humming sound, in Old English.

The golden boy who strayed could be no one other than Harry, and the most telling part of the message was the part about the On Afforested lead. Afforested meaning any man made forest but the phrase was actually an anagram that spelled out the Forrest of Dean.

The forest was located in Gloucestershire County in South West England and despite being only110 square kilometers (42.5 sq mi), they had yet to locate John and Sherlock. Mycroft had set a up a command center and Harry was currently watching live aerial footage of the forest franticly searching for any suspicious areas, campsites or trails. It wasn't working.

Harry gripped his inky locks pulling roughly and growling in frustration. Why couldn't they find them, why couldn't Dumbledore leave him and his family alone! Harry took a deep breath and slowly unclenched his fists, he would figure this out. So far there had been no indication that the person who had taken his Dad and Tad, as Harry called of Sherlock and John in his mind, was not a Muggle. The paper was run of the mill copy paper, and the message was clearly written with a ball point pen and not a quill and ink. His Uncle had even mentioned that the note sounded like Moriarty, the Muggle man responsible for his Dad's fall, would write. But if this was the case, why hadn't his fathers' been found?

Harry returned his attention to the screen and watched as Uncle Myc's men scoured the Forest and its surrounding villages and towns. As Harry watched he began to notice something odd; every time his uncles men would come to a spot not too far off of the Village of Bream, the men would stop and go off in another direction. After seeing this happen several times, a horrible hot sick feeling invaded Harry's body. Just because the kidnapper was a Muggle didn't mean he wouldn't have help from a witch or wizard, especially if Dumbledore was as involved as Harry fear , and these highly trained British Servicemen were acting exactly how a Muggle would when confronted with a Muggle-Repelling Charm. Harry turned to ask his Uncle if there was another reason his men might be behaving so oddly, but found him deep in conversation with someone who looked to be of great importance.

Harry's frustration and panic were quickly overtaking him. He was ninety-five percent certain that only a wizard would be able to find his parents, and right now he didn't know any adult wizard that he could trust enough to find his Dad and Tad, but if he went himself, he would probably be walking right into a trap...not to mention his fathers' would kill him for coming alone; but what other choice did he have?

Quickly he jotted down a note for Mycroft, leaving the approximate coordinates and explaining the Muggle Repelling Charm. Harry then casually walked upstairs to his room trying not to do anything that would attract his Uncles attention, breathing a sigh of relief when he made it without incident.

Opening his trunk, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak, a handful of galleons, the knife that Sirius gave him that could open any door, lock, rope or knot knapsack before shoving his wand in his back pocket, and heading to the loo. He quickly and quietly searched the cabinets for any medical supplies grabbing several fistfuls of bandages, some tape, disinfectant, pain pills and some bottles of water that had been stored in the first aid kit for emergencies cramming all of it into his knapsack. Harry was unsure if he would need or even have the opportunity to use this stuff but he would rather be have it and not needed it, than need it and not have it.

Forcing himself to keep his gait slow and normal, Harry walked back to his room, cracking his door just a bit, as closing it would definitely get his Uncles attention, and that was something to be avoided at all costs. Harry kept walking until he got to the window where he paused to wipe his sweating palms nervously against his trousers before sliding open the windowpane.

Looking down, Harry tried to gauge just how far the drop from his window to the balcony two floors down was, before deciding that it was not worth the risk of injury. Going to plan B Harry, grabbed his broom, mounting it, before covering himself and the broom in his invisibility cloak and carefully hovering out the window and down to the busy street below. After reaching the ground he dismounted his broom propped it in-between the entrance for 221 B and the door for Speedy's hoping that no one would take it, and with one last glance at the place he had come to love more than Hogwarts, Harry walked away headed for the nearest alley he had a Knight Bus to summon, and parents to save.

**A/N:** I am so sorry for the slow updates, but I think it is safe to say that this will be the new norm as real life is quite demanding at the moment. I have not and will not abandon this story, but it will probably take some time in-between updates. That being said, I think that there will probably be only two or three more chapters and this story will be complete! And I think that this chapter broke through my horrible case of writers block! Yay!

The next chapter will be longer and will be all about John, Sherlock, and Harry reuniting, the bad guys will reveal themselves to our hero and well just the general climax of the story. There will also be more dialogue in the next chapter, hopefully you guys were not to incredibly board by the end of this one. Pleases don't judge it too harshly I literally thought this chapter might kill me and it is not my best work.

Thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing, it is much appreciated!

Godiva9


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: **Lineage Ligno: A Family of His Own

**Summary:** It started out as a simple summer assignment; it ended up changing his life forever. After using a lineage potion as part of a combined potions and history project, fifteen year old Harry Potter finds out he is not a Potter after all, and that his father is a self-proclaimed Sociopath who committed suicide nearly three years ago. Harry wants answers so he goes to the one man who knew his Dad best, Dr. John Watson.

**Rating: T**

**Warnings:** Mentions of Abuse, possible violence, possible mild language, possible light/non-graphic slash

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my ideas for the AU plot, as well as any and all errors in spelling and grammar. I do not own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Sherlock; that right goes to Steven Moffat, Mark Gattis and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Any recognizable lines, characters, or places in this work are from or inspired by the Harry Potter books and Movies and the BBC Sherlock Series.

**Last Time: Sherlock and John have been kidnapped, Harry solved the riddle and after leaving a note for Mycroft, races to their rescue.**

Chapter 11

John slowly came back to consciousness his thoughts muddled by a pounding headache. His body ached and when he tried to move his arms from there awkward position above his head, a fiery hot pain shot down his previously injured shoulder and he could not hold back the pained shout that left him.

"John, John can you hear me? Try not to move to much we've been kidnapped obviously, and they have us chained and strung up by our arms. The amount of tension on your shoulder could cause enough damage on its own, so do try not to contribute to the damage by moving. Are you listening to me John?"

"Yes Lock, I hear you." John slurred sounding disgruntle.

A satisfied smirk quickly crossed Sherlock's face.

"Good."

John sent a half hearted glare in his smug husbands direction before trying to figure out where they were and how exactly they got there.

Silence permeated the cool air for a moment as John gathered his scattered and thoughts. They had been at the crime scene of a potential serial killer everything had been going well, Sherlock had only started one brief row with Donovan, and his husband was sure he had just found the clue that was going to point them in the direction of the murderer. The two of them had just gone to investigate the back garden, something about needing to check the species of moss growing there, when they had been ambushed by two very large men. Though he had his husband had both put up a fight, the thugs fought dirty managing to drug them both before throwing them in the back of a small unmarked lorry. John remembered nothing of the ride over or being chained to the bloody wall and trying was just making his headache worse.

"Sherlock what do you think is going on, who has us?"

"Oh who knows, more than likely it is the criminal or criminal organization behind the recent murders, but I need more data before I can conclude that definitively." his husband said dismissively.

"Right, well then what's the plan? Get out of these shackles and -"

"Someone's been keeping secrets Sherlock," An interrupting voice sing-songed from the shadows. "Why didn't you tell me you had a son? Our little games could have bee sooo much more fun!"

John gasped as he recognized the familiar, if insane melodic Irish accent.

"Moriarty! How, how is he alive?"

"Certainly I cannot be the only one who can fake their death John." Sherlock huffed quietly, and while he didn't add the 'obviously' at the end, John could hear it and rolled his eyes fondly despite the situation.

"Yes hello again gentleman, are you happy to see me? I'd been gone so long I thought we were about do for a proper face to face chat, thought I could offer my congratulations on becoming a Dad and all."

Sherlock scoffed "Oh I highly doubt that you just wanted to discuses parenting techniques Moriarty. No there is something else you need us for. So tell me, what nefarious plots do you plan on involving us in this time?" asked Sherlock his tone brisk and business like, but John could see his husband's eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Now Sherlock that is really quite hurtful, perhaps I just wanted to chat, life has been so horribly dull without you." the Irishman said stepping close as he ran finger softly down Sherlock's jaw.

John growled low in his throat, lunging forward pulling on the chains before he could stop himself. This is sicko was flirting with his husband, touching him, and John wanted nothing more than to rip Moriarty's hand away from his lovers face, or even better, rip it off of the man's body.

"Ooo a bit jealous are we Doctor Watson?"

"It's Watson-Holmes you psycho! Now what do you want from us, because everyone here knows that you did not kidnap us just to let Sherlock know that you know he has a son!" John shouted trying to get Moriarty's attention off of Sherlock, while getting his husband any information he could.

John saw his husband throw him an appreciative half smile, before cautioning him with his eyes to not push Jim too far. Nodding slightly to show he understood John focused back on Moriarty.

"You really have been a busy boy Sherlock, marrying the pet? How...beneath you, such a waste of your brilliant mind and just a touch disappointing. An artificially grown progeny I could have handled, but marrying the distraction? Well that will alter our future relationship."

"We have no relationship Moriarty, now tell us what you want so we can move on with our lives." said Sherlock clearly losing his patients.

John and Sherlock watched cautiously as the manic smile slid from Moriarty's face and his playful demeanor changed to one of cold calculation.

"Well then you will be happy to know that my business is not with you and your 'husband' today, you are just the bait." he said his eyes harsh.

"The bait? The bait for who!? Mycroft would never be foolish enough to fall for such an obvious trap, who else it there?" asked Sherlock in disbelief.

"Why we are waiting for your son Sherlock. I have been paid rather handsomely to take him from your protection and send him back to his own kind. I would think he should be here already if he is even half as clever as you are Sherlock. Maybe he just needs a little motivation."

"Gentleman let me introduce Cutter, who contrary to his name, has an affinity for torture by electric currents." Moriarty said gesturing to the tall thin man brandishing a equally thin long cylindrical rod.

"Cutter, let's give Doctor Watson a taste of your latest electric invention shall we."

"Don't touch him Moriarty!" growled Sherlock lunging forward, only to come to a sudden stop as the chains holding him held fast.

"With pleasure Mister Moriarty!" Cutter said, his high pitched nasally voice brimming with glee.

"Well gentlemen I am afraid I have to leave you in Mister Cutter's hands I have a conference call scheduled and it is bad business to cancel last minute. Enjoy yourself Cutter but remember that I need him alive, or you will find yourself wishing you had never heard the word electricity." Moriarty threatened as he exited through a side door.

John eyed Cutter and his torture stick with dread. This was going to hurt and he could only hope that his military training against torture would help him survive and as the man brought the device closer he braced himself for the pain. It wasn't enough. Nothing could have prepared him for the fiery, burning pain that seared through his body burning his nerves and forcing his muscles to contract as he convulsed. A strangled primal screamed escaped his throat despite his best efforts to contain them. He could hear Sherlock fighting against his bindings and pleading for Cutter to stop, though his pleas went unnoticed.

Just as the pain became too much, and John was sure he was going to have permanent nerve and muscle damage, sounds of slamming and shouting reached his ears and in a sudden burst of red light the pain stopped and Cutter was laying unconscious on the floor several feet way.

LLAFOHO

Harry stood behind a large tree taking shelter from both enemy eyes, should the wind blow his invisibility cloak, and the cold steady rainfall. He found it amusingly ironic that he would face Dumbledore hopefully for the final time in rain, it was so cliché. The warehouse like shack had been easy to find, too easy in Harry's opinion; all he had to do was follow the very obvious and very familiar magical signature.

He had been watching the metal building for fifteen minutes and as far as he could tell, there were no guards and no one had entered or exited the structure. Harry hated waiting knowing that his Dad and Tad were inside and that Dumbledore could be doing Merlin knows what to them, but he knew he would do them no good if he was captured or killed while trying to rescue them, so he took the more cautious and less reckless approach. He planned on waiting another five minutes before slowly approaching and hopefully entering unnoticed, but those plans became null and void the second he heard his Tad scream.

All thoughts of circumspection fled his mind and Harry quickly flung of his cloak and charged through the door wand out, a blasting hex on his lips ready to take down his traitorous ex-Headmaster, only to stop short at the scene before him. On the far wall, Sherlock and John, his Dad and Tad were trussed up, both with shackles around their wrists connected to chains that were pulled tight enough that they were forced to either hang by their arms or stand on tiptoe to try and support their weight. Both men sported a few scrapes and bruises, Sherlock had a cut at his temple that was bleeding sluggishly, and John had clearly taken a hit to the face as he had swollen jaw and bloody lip.

Standing next to John was a man who was definitely not Dumbledore. The man was rather average looking, there was nothing extraordinary about his build, height, futures or even his receding hairline. The only thing that really stood out was the man's sickly red-orange aura, he was hate filled man who was thoroughly enjoying hurting John.

All of this Harry observed in less than five seconds and only took him even less time to decide to act. Aiming at the man brandishing the electric rod at John, Harry shot off a petrificus totalus and watched with relief as the average man froze and fell to the floor, his electric probe well away from his Tad.

Harry quickly ran over to his parents "Oh Merlin Tad! Tad are you oaky can you hear me?" he asked John franticly and he shot his Dad a panicked look when all he received was a groan.

His mind as in chaos, he usually did well under pressure but seeing his parent trussed up like a Christmas turkey and hearing his Tad's pained screams caused him to lose it.

"Dad are you okay? Dad what do I do? His shoulder looks wonky we have to get out of here, before Dumbledore-"

"Harry, look at me, Son look at me." Harry blearily looked over to his Dad, his mind still reeling.

"Breath for me Harry nice deep breaths." Harry took a shaky breath and then another, slowly he felt his mind clear and his usual calm take over.

"Good very good, now you are right we need to get out of here, can you unlock the shackles? Get John down first. You will need to support his bad arm and lower it slowly, it will probably be painful but we need to get his weight off of it before more damage is done." his dad said calmly, the deep baritone washing over Harry helping him to compose himself.

"Right okay I can do that."

Using his left hand, Harry held John's arm holding it steady while he used his right to try every unlocking charm he knew becoming frustrated when they didn't work.

"They must have wards on them magic won't work." Harry said as he released his Tad's arm and rummaged through his knapsack. He smiled triumphantly when he pulled out the knife Sirius got him.

"So glad I brought this along." he said shooting his Dad a smirk which was returned with a warning to hurry.

Focusing back on John, Harry was pleased to see his Tad was looking a little more coherent.

"Tad I am going to get you down now okay, I will try to be gentle but it might hurt." Harry said soothingly as he started unlocking the manacles.

"Har-Harry? No, no you need to go, they wan-want you." John slurred.

"No Tad I am not leaving without you and Dad. Okay I got it!" Harry said excitedly."Okay this is gonna hurt." he warned as he slowly started to lower John's arm, as slowly as he dared. They were running out of time.

" I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he murmured, his Tad's pained moans caused Harry's heart to ache but it had to be done. "Alright it's over, now let's get the other." he quickly unlocked the other manacle, and lowered John to the floor. Just as he was moving over to Sherlock, the side door opened and clapping sounded through the shack.

"Ooh well done! You managed to bypass the wards quicker than I thought! How exciting! You must be the wayward golden boy and Sherlock's test tube son."

The man fancy suite, short neat hair and an innocent boyish face. This was the man that caused his parents so much grief; James Moriarty. To anyone else, the man would have looked like your average unassuming businessman, but to Harry who could see auras, the man would never be anything but malevolent. Moriarty's aura was dark, not even black it was just dark, like the absence of all light and color; just looking at it gave Harry goose bumps, it was pure evil.

Though Harry was terrified of Moriarty and his strangely empty aura, there was no way he was going to show it and as usual his Gryffindor side reared its head.

"Tisk, tisk Mister Moriarty, you really should do some fact checking. " Harry said trying his best to imitate his Uncle Mycroft when he was chastising a disappointing minion." I am not a test tube baby as my mother was artificially inseminated with my Dad's sperm, she did not undergo in vitro fertilization. You really should work on your research department, you never know when something like that might be useful." he finished adding in a cheeky smirk.

"Oooo the spawn has bite, I approve Sherlock, I really do."

Harry glanced over at John and Sherlock to find the latter watching him with calculating eyes, and small amused twitch of his mouth while John looked a strange combination of pride, exasperation, and worry.

Focusing back on the matter at hand, Harry startled slightly to find that in the few seconds that he had been observing his Dads, Moriarty had managed to silently cross the room and was now standing directly in front of him, and before he could move to defend himself the Consulting Criminal had his hands fisted in Harry's shirt pulling him in close.

"On the other hand I do sooo dislike it when children have the audacity to talk back to their superiors, especially when they think they can outwit me!

"Yeah? Well I don't like it when crazy, stupid psychopaths kidnap my parents to get to me!" Harry snapped back; he would not let this creep intimidate him, after all he was a Gryffindor. "and for the record I 'outwit' the most powerful Dark Lord in the history of my world, and you, well you are nothing compared to him!"

For a brief second, the nothingness that surrounded Moriarty was streaked with angry red before swelling out ominously. By the time Harry saw the punch coming, it was too late to dodge; all Harry could do was turn his face with the hit knowing at the very least, he would end up with a bloody lip and swollen bruised jaw.

Stumbling a bit, Harry managed to stay upright and glare defiantly at the man as his fathers shouted his name, and John struggled to get of get off the floor but his still twitching paralyzed muscles would not allow it.

Harry spat out a mouthful of blood "Do you feel better now? I must have hit a nerve, if the great Moriarty, the man who never gets his hands dirty, has sullied himself with the likes of me."

Moriarty raised his hand for another blow and Harry prepared to dart out of the way.

"Enough!" came a shout Harry was very familiar with, Albus Dumbledore, the man behind all the chaos, had finally arrived.

Harry my boy, are you alright?"

Harry glared at the old man, his fake grandfatherly concern was enough to simultaneously do his nut and spew his lunch.

"I am not your boy, not anymore not since you abandoned me to the Dursleys after I did your dirty work and killed Voldemort." he informed the man coldly.

Dumbledore looked at Harry disappointment and hurt showing clearly but the headmaster simply turned his back to him to face Moriarty.

"Mister Moriarty, I thought the deal was that you would hand Harry over to me unharmed as soon as you had him." the disapproving tone clear in Dumbledore's voice.

"Yes that was the plan Professor but the boy has a way of getting under ones skin. He has a smart mouth and he stopped the fun my minion was having with Doctor Watson over there."

Dumbledore looked disapprovingly at the idea of torture taking place and a look of genuine sorrow crossed his face.

"I am sorry Doctor Watson; I don't abide by torture but I need Harry back. It is all for the greater good you know." he turned back to Moriarty."However the deal was that Harry was to remain unharmed and handed over to me as soon as you had him, and you could do as you wished with the Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. You sir have injured the poor boy and you did not inform me you had him. If I hadn't been magically monitoring this place for Harry's magical signature, I never would have known he was here. You are not following the terms I paid you handsomely to execute properly Mister Moriarty."

A manic grin spread across Moriarty's face and Harry felt the man's empty aura swell. "Well Headmaster Dumbledore it would seem I am changing our agreement. It would be foolish of me to give up control of the Great Detective, his trusty sidekick, the-boy-who-lived and one of the most influential wizard of modern times! You four are going to do wonders for the consulting criminal business, and the best part is all of you will do whatever I tell you because if you don't, it will be your loved ones will suffer." Moriarty gleefully threatened.

Harry could feel his anger and his magic coiling ready to lash out at a moment's notice. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! The great, noble Albus Dumbledore had not only paid to have him kidnapped, but had given a mad man free reign over his dads, and was condoning the torture of his Tad! And now this manic wanted to use them for his own nefarious purposes! This situation was ridiculous and dangerous; they had to get out of here now.

Harry glared at the Headmaster "I will NOT be going back with you! I will not be your weapon or your poster boy Dumbledore! I want nothing to do with the Wizarding world right now! You people left me, a teenager, to battle a Dark Lord after leaving me with relatives that beat me, starved me and heated me, and you want me to what, just come back and keep the peace! I won't do it Dumbledore, I don't want to be the-boy-who-lived, I want to be just Harry and live with my Dad and Tad who love me for me and would never hurt me!" Harry shouted unable to stop once he had started.

Dumbledore looked at Harry with wide shocked eyes. "I, I am sorry, my bo-Harry. I did not realize that you felt this way or that the Dursleys were... they are your family I never once imagined they would hurt you. I am so, so sorry."

Harry watched as the Headmaster seemed to deflate in front of him; was the man really sorry or was this another manipulation? Just as Harry opened his mouth to say, well he wasn't sure what he was going to say, a scuffle was heard from behind him. He turned quickly to see that his Tad had made it off the floor and now had Moriarty by the neck.

"Now Moriarty you and I have been in this position before, but this time I am fighting for my family so one wrong move and it won't end well for you, do understand."

"Harry go unshackle your Dad, and you Dumbledore don't move." his Tad ordered.

Harry scurried over to Sherlock eager to have him free and able to leave. He had just managed to get one arm free when he heard Dumbledore's panicked shout as he ran franticly towards John. He had never heard anything like it and icy hot fear rushed through him as turned and saw a red dot hovering over his Tads back.

It was as if someone had simultaneously muted all sound and slowed down time as several things happened at once. Somewhere in the back of his consciousness Harry recognized that the door to the shack was busted down and men in black body armor were swarming but most of his focus was on the sound of a gunshot and the fact that Moriarty, his Tad and Dumbledore were laying on the floor covered in blood not one of them moving.

**Epilogue Three Years Later**

Harry and his Dad stood in contemplative silence as they stared at the white marble headstone in front of them. They came every year on this day honor his sacrifice, though admittedly Sherlock only came today so that Harry would not have to come alone. It had been three years since the shack and the arrest of Moriarty who was now locked in the highest security prison Mycroft had.

"I still don't know why he did it, I mean he had to have known he could have died right?" Harry asked.

Sherlock placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder "I do believe he was thinking that he cared for you son, sentiment and all that he wanted you to have a life where you were loved."

"I suppose, though I wish he hadn't I still had questions, things only he could answer."

Sherlock cleared his throat awkwardly "Yes well all lives end and I suppose that if you really want your questions answered I could give you the most probable answers based on what I know of his thought process."

Harry looked and his Dad incredulously for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

"Dad you really shouldn't do the comfort thing!"

"It's not really my department, you know." Sherlock said haughtily.

"No that would be my department wouldn't it Lock." a warm voice said from behind them.

Harry turned around and found himself in a warm embrace . "Tad you're back!"

"John, we went expecting you until tomorrow." Sherlock said as he grabbed his husbands hand as they left Dumbledore's final resting place.

"Left the medical conference early, it was bloody boring." John replied with a frustrated shake of his head. "Besides I can't leave you two alone for too long you're likely to blow something up, or get yourselves killed."

"Now that's not fair Tad, we haven't even had any cases since you've been gone, and you know I won't let Dad blow up the loft again," Harry said cheekily.

"Brat" John chuckled as he ruffled Harry's messy locks.

"Sherlock, John Harry!"

"Lestrade, to what do we owe the pleasure?" Sherlock asked an eager gleam in his eyes.

"We've got some kind of ritualistic type murder but there's no marks on the bodies, and the ME found no trace of poison, and another one just showed up; I thought maybe it might be something you know," he mimed someone waving a wand. "Will you come?"

"Not in the Police car will be right behind." Harry said before the others could respond.

"Text the address Lestrade." Sherlock added.

"We will meet you there Greg." John reassured as he watched his husband and their son race back to the cab.

"Barmy the two of them." Greg said with a shake of his head.

"Yes, but I wouldn't have them any other way." John said fondly as he followed after them not noticing the black car on the hill in which sat Mycroft Holmes.

" Yvette upgrade their surveillance to status grade five active."

"Yes sir...Who's status exactly sir?"

"Sherlock, John and Harry Watson-Holmes of cores, we can't have them tearing across Great Britain unsupervised, I do get tired of cleaning up the mess."

**~FIN~**

**A/N:** Oh my gosh it is finished! I am so sorry for the long wait, and the kind of abrupt ending; I had/have horrible writers block and I rewrote this chapter several times! It never felt quite right, but I am mostly happy with the ending so I hope you all did not find it too disappointing! THANK YOU for all of your support throughout the story, and I hope you were not disenchanted by its ending.

Godiva9


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